The Night of Finding Joy
by Diddlepie
Summary: Artemus Gordon discovers a secret from his past that could have long term consequences for his partnership with James West, and his career with the Secret Service. As he and Jim come to gripes with what it all means, they must also deal with their own seperate concerns and fears for the future.
1. Chapter 1

THE NIGHT OF FINDING JOY

By Diddlepie 3/2013

_Author's note: I want to thank both Wild Wild Whovian and California Gal for inspiring this story: WWW for the plot, and CG for the style and both for their generous encouragement._

_No infringement of intellectual property rights are intended. This story is only for reader enjoyment. No profit will be made. All original characters are mine and other writers: please don't mess with them._

CHAPTER ONE

Joy: the emotion of great delight or happiness caused by something exceptionally good or satisfying

It was a quiet day. An uncharacteristic one for sure but Artemus Gordon was enjoying it. He played in the galley with some creative cooking, taking his time and enjoying each methodical step as he hummed the common bar room songs of the day. Sometimes he break into _Edgardo, _the grief-stricken lover from the opera _Lucia di Lammermoor_ and his baritone voice would rise above the clanging of pans, and chopping of knives. He would grasp his chest in the last swells of Edgardo's death song as he expressively sang with his last breath… in perfect Italian. Then he'd bow deeply to the compact train kitchen that was his most attentive audience, thanking all the dishes, flatware, pots and pans for their most appreciative and silent applause.

The smells that emanated from the galley spread deliciously throughout the idle train. He knew for as much as he was enjoying this down time, Jim would eventually get bored. As it was he was in the stable car working out with punching bags, and bales of hay as his pretend bad guys. In between his own singing he would occasionally hear grunts and intermittent crashes as some inanimate object lost its battle with Jim West. Poor horses, he thought to himself, although Black Jack probably liked the show.

A telegram had come through earlier in the day saying an important personal letter would be arriving by courier that afternoon. It was highly unusual for the telegraph to be used for any communication other than official government business, so they were both extremely curious to know what the letter was about.

The telegram didn't say who it was for but simply that one of them had to be available to sign for it when it arrived. They were in between assignments on a well deserved break. Unfortunately it was not a very interesting place to have time off. No theater, no good restaurants and a dire shortage of attractive available young women. There was, however, an abundance of jack rabbits, grass, and as much wide open space as one would expect with the train stopped between two towns, essentially in the middle of nowhere.

But they'd both settled in to a complacent routine and the fact was it wasn't so bad. He'd also caught up on several scientific papers he'd wanted to read as well as new recipes, and they'd both even taken to an occasional nap.

The courier finally arrived late afternoon. He'd carried the letter personally from Indianapolis, Indiana switching horses at local towns much like a pony express rider. He was a slight young man, light and easy on a horse's back, but strong and wiry. His dusty and sweat stained clothes said he'd ridden hard and fast resting only when it was too dark to ride. Jim saw him ride up and greeted him at the door wearing only a towel around his neck and the loose black pants he used for training. Through the road dust and a mop of sun streaked brown hair, the rider handed over the letter, looking at the bare foot man suspiciously. "You Artemus Gordon?"

"No, I'm his partner, James West. The telegram said either of us could sign for it."

"That's for sure mister, but if Mr Gordon is here, I'd like to at least see the man considering how long I've been riding just to drop off this here letter."

"Sure," Jim replied and called to his friend who emerged from the galley, dusted from head to foot in flour making him look a good deal older with a pale completion and white dappled hair. The young courier quickly sized him up as some old gizzer who probably wasn't going to make it through the day. No wonder the letter needed to be delivered so timely, the old man was probably going to keel over dead ten minutes after he left. He accepted a fat tip from Jim, and with few words spoken, said he was off to the closest town for a good meal, a hot bath, and a decent night's sleep.

The letter was addressed to: Mr Artemus Gordon, Agent of the Secret Service, Wanderer Train- Somewhere between St Louis and Louisville. Artemus studied the envelope. He held it up to the parlor car window examining the paper quality, and the bold cursive handwriting that gave the address.

"I bet you just inherited a million dollars from some rich uncle you never met" Jim said, joking.

"Either that or I owe some poor uncle who I never met a million dollars," Artemus shot back with a chuckle.

Truth be told, he was anxious to know what could be so important that it was delivered with such haste. The paper was a heavy expensive grade and it was sealed with wax at the bottom and both sides. He opened the multiple pages with a grin, Jim hanging over his shoulder.

"Oh," he groaned as he walked a few steps his expression changing to dismay. "A dear friend from college, Amanda Leslie, has passed away."

Jim placed a sympathetic hand on his friend's shoulder, but knew there was more to this than just a report of a friend's passing. A letter simply reporting a death of a friend would never be delivered so expediently. Artemus continued reading. His eyes suddenly widened and he gasped, "What? No! It can't be! I would have known!"

Jim quickly moved around the couch so he was standing in front. "Artie, what is it?" alarm creeping into his voice. He grasped both ends of the towel still around his neck subconsciously, as his body tensed.

He continued reading, completely absorbed in the pages. His face was pained and he frequently ran his hands through his now rumpled hair until at one point he just held it there, anchored by a substantial handful of floured dark waves.

"Artie, what is it?" Jim was definitely alarmed now.

His partner silently handed him the letter, and walked in a daze to the back of the car. He stood looking out the frosted window, one arm anchored against the door frame as he leaned heavily on it.

Jim glanced to make sure he was not going out the door. Whatever the letter said, it was enough for him to be deeply concerned for his partner's welfare.

He focused on the letter in his hand.

_My Dearest Artemus,_

_I know my letter finds you well as my uncle, Judge Amos Wilson would not have sent it if you were incapacitated. Unfortunately for me, the same can not be said. If you're reading this, it means our good Lord has called me back to his fold. Please do not pity me or mourn for me as it is not for us to know why the Lord chooses who he does, only to know that we are here for his bidding._

_I think of you more frequently than you can imagine with only love and best wishes for you. The biggest mistake of my life was when I said 'no' to you. But understand I did it because of my unending love for you. You were ready to move into a life of bright lights, stage, adoring audiences and I was not ready to share you, or live the life of a nomad moving from one city to another as you traveled with a production. _

_I didn't want to be the one to stop you from a career you dreamed of and one I knew you would be successful beyond your own imagination. And I have been proven correct in my prediction as now you are trusted and entrusted to protect the most important man in our good and blessed country, President Ulysses Grant. You have the gift for what you do, Artemus, and I love you for your courage and your passion._

_But now that I have gone, there is one secret I've kept from you, only to protect you both, but given my passing and Howard's death two years ago, it is important that you know. _

_We spent the most magical time our last year together. You made me laugh when I wanted to cry and you gave me strength when I wanted to walk away. Our passions ran high and we shared more than just words and thoughts. The feel of you next to me is a cherished memory. And in our love we created another, our daughter, Joy._

_You have all the right in the world to be angry with me for not telling you. I knew when you proposed to me that I was with child but choose for the reasons I've given you in this letter not to tell you. Please forgive me for my deception._

_We both went our ways that summer. I believe I broke your heart, but not as much as I'd broken my own. I hid away until Joy was born, and then my uncle, Judge Wilson, made up false adoption papers so I could say Joy was my cousin's child whom I adopted when my dear cousin and her husband were tragically killed in a fire. _

_I met Howard shortly after and he accepted Joy as his own with no conditions. He never knew the real truth, nor does Joy. Although we tried, God never granted Howard and I our own child. I believe it was God's punishment to me because of my deception._

_Now my cherished daughter has no family, except for you. I don't expect you to be a parent, my Dearest, as you have not had the experience of being a father and in your line of work it's doubtful you've learned much if anything of raising children, but I would like you to look after her decisions and make sure she stays true to herself. I would like you to be her guardian. You and your daughter have much in common; the way you think, the things that interest you, your character and intelligence. My Uncle Amos is elderly as is his wife and I'm afraid they may not have the energy to keep up with our spirited daughter. I have left her an adequate amount for a good education at any boarding school you think suitable, and living expenses which if you'll accept the task, I'll entrust to you._

_You will like her and I know she will come to love you. I always kept her from your view for fear you'd notice the resemblance as she looks much like you. She has your beautiful hair, and your rich brown eyes and she, like you, is inquisitive, and full of spirit and intellect._

_I can only imagine how betrayed and shocked you feel right now, my Love, but know whether I was right or wrong I only did what I did because I love you now and for eternity._

_With all my Heart,_

_Amanda_

A paper fell to the floor. It was a picture. He looked to Artie wondering if he'd seen it. A lovely young woman looked back at him with long dark wavy hair. Her eyes were large and full of life, and a small smile danced on her lips surrounded by a round pleasing face. She looked like Artemus Gordon.

Jim quickly flipped through the rest of the pages which all seemed to be legal documents.

He looked at Artie who continued to stand at the door.

"Artie, you ok?" he asked his voice full of concern, although he already knew the answer.

"Yeah, I'm fine," he answered, his voice flat. "Look I'm going to get some fresh air for a minute. You don't need to look for me, I'll just be outside." He spoke with his back to Jim. He watched as his partner raised his forearm and bushed it across his eyes. He quietly opened the door and left.

Jim stood in the car alone and unsure of what do, an unfamiliar position for him. Artie was obviously hurting as much as he'd ever witnessed. He'd seen him shot, cut, bones broken, drugged, but he'd only seen him shed a tear once before. He watched through the window as he slowly walked then started running up the embankment that framed the Wanderer on the right side disappearing over the top.


	2. Chapter 2

CHAPTER TWO

Artie was too sensible to do something stupid, he reasoned. He'd go find him in awhile if he didn't return. He looked again at the letter and the documents. The woman's story must be credible or his partner never would have reacted so strongly. But he knew it would be foolish to accept her story without question.

The legal documents were all drawn up by the same judge, Judge Amos T. Wilson, Circuit Court of Appeals, Indianapolis, Indiana. No wonder he was able to pull strings to have a telegraph sent, followed by a special courier.

There was another letter from the Judge himself. It was curt and to the point, instructing Artemus to immediately proceed to Indianapolis to handle the legal affairs. Poor Artie, Jim thought. This Judge Wilson is none too happy with you.

He looked outside again. Orrin had lit the outside lanterns and it cast an eerie light around the train as dusk settled across the countryside. He wandered into the galley and took the pans off the hot plates. Whatever Artie had been cooking was on hold. He pulled together some sandwiches, grabbed a decanter of whiskey, two glasses and started out the door. Half way down the stairs, he turned and went back to the stable car to grab Artie's bedroll and another glass. The sky was clear and the moon was starting to rise, lighting the landscape with a soft iridescent glow. He made his way up the embankment and saw the silhouette of his friend in the distance leaning against a tree.

He imagined what Artie must be thinking as we walked. He imagined himself in the same position and wondered if there wasn't some pugnacious kid out there with his dimples. But Jim was never a one woman man or at least not so far, and any woman who got involved with him knew that up front. Artie was a different sort though. He liked playing the field as much as any handsome man would, but in his heart, he was made for one and only one woman. Sounds like Amanda might have been it, and he had even been ready to settle down with her, but she refused him. It was odd he'd never mentioned her; perhaps the wound still ached too much, especially after having another marriage proposal refused by Lilly Fortune.

As he approached, he cleared his throat in introduction of his arrival. Artemus never turned or looked in his direction.

"Here I brought you something to help fortify the spirit." He poured himself a glass and handed one to Artie. His partner took the glass, not looking in his direction. "Thanks," was the only response.

Minutes went by as they continued to stand in silence.

"You knew didn't you, even though she never told you," Jim said quietly. He turned to look at his friend who still hadn't made eye contact. He studied the rolling fields of now darkened grass and patiently waited.

He watched from the corner of his eye as Artie at first sipped the potent liquid then suddenly downed the remaining portion. He said quietly, "I guess I did, although I can't believe she didn't tell me." He studied the empty glass as if an answer would appear in it if he waited long enough. Then he suddenly and savagely hurled the glass against a nearby tree truck where it shattered, causing a nesting group of sparrows to take flight squawking in alarm.

His voice was tinged with resignation and defeat when he spoke. "I've always had a feeling something was wrong. I'd written to her over the years and she'd write back, always affectionately, full of exciting news of her family, but her letters always sounded strangely empty. There was never anything about her, what she was doing, how she was feeling. I'd even stopped by to see her several times on my through Indianapolis. I never met her husband or… Joy," his voice caught as he said the name out loud for the first time. "I'd invited them to dinner but they never came, some flimsy excuse. I told myself it was her embarrassment that she wasn't a virgin when she married her husband, Howard. That she felt either I or more likely herself would somehow give that away if we met. But she never said anything about Joy." He turned his eyes to study the ground.

"When you live a lie, it's hard to stop," Jim replied.

"Yeah, I guess." He paused for a moment and silence fell again over the landscape as the sun set. "I would have married her, you know. I asked her to marry me… and she tells me she even knew when I asked her she was carrying our baby and she refused… she refused! Why? Did she hate me that much?" He spit out the last words with rising anger.

"Her letter says to the contrary; she loved you that much."

The anger abated as quickly as it had risen, and he kicked the dust around with the toe of his boot. "I just would have really liked to know." He wiped his shirt sleeve across his eyes. "I have a daughter, Jim. A grown up young lady. What do I do now?"

Jim looked hard at his friend. It hurt him to see Artie in such pain. Artemus Gordon: a master of the one liner, a man who had looked death in the eye many times and never blinked, a loyal man, a man of his word. And maybe that's why this hurt so much. He would have done something if he known, but he never been given that opportunity.

Jim pulled the extra glass from his pocket and poured them another drink and said, "You're going to go to Indianapolis, and you're going to meet her. That's want you're going to do." He held his glass up, a tight grin on his handsome face. "May I propose a toast to the most beautiful, charming, and intelligent young woman in Indiana. Let's hope she didn't inherit any of your characteristics. To Joy."

Artie stood looking at him. He looked at his own glass and swirled the liquid inside of it. He looked at his partner again, the confusion, but not the pain slowly lifting. He gradually lifted his glass and gently touched it against the other. "To Joy," he said with a sad smile.

They fell into silence again, and Jim slipped down to sit on the dry grass. The view was relaxing in its sameness. A few bundle of trees here and there and otherwise just a gentle undulating sea of dark waving grass. He heard the calls of pheasants settling in for the night. The major predators hadn't come out yet. They'd make themselves known later.

Artie quietly spoke as he slide down the tree he been leaning against and sat on the ground beside Jim. "What do you think Jim… are there any little _Jimmies_ running around out there?"

"I don't know. I don't think so… I hope not. I wouldn't want to saddle any woman with the likes of me." He chuckled. "No, I don't think so. I've never stayed anywhere long enough to really fall for a woman, not like you and Amanda."

"Well if you remember the birds and the bees, a bee doesn't have to love the flower, it only has to stop by for a visit."

Jim smiled. "Artie, this isn't about my life right now, so don't try to entice me into your problems."

His friend exhaled a heavy sigh, and a cheerless smirk briefly crossed his face. "No, you're right, it's not your problem."

Jim felt suddenly dismayed that what he had hoped would be a remark to lift his friend's mood had just dismally failed. They sat together in silence, pretty much finishing off the bottle until it was late. Artie declined to return to the train, saying he needed some time alone, and Jim left him with the bedroll. He wondered if perhaps he should return to the train and bring him back a gun for self defense, but decided it was probably for the best if Artie did not have a firearm tonight. Mountain lions didn't frequent this part of the country and if need be, he could scare of coyotes.

He walked back with the night as his companion. His mind swirled with questions: Was this girl really Artie's daughter or a set-up, would Artie quit to be more available in his new role as guardian, and what would he do if Artie quit. He couldn't imagine what else he would want to do although he would have lots of opportunities. He could work with a new partner… break in a new partner was more accurate. He'd worked with other agents when Artie was stationed in Washington for a few months. It was different some better than others and all very qualified, but none of them could anticipate his next move, knew what he was thinking sometimes before _he _even thought it, the way Artemus Gordon could. And then there was his partner's specialty: the man of a thousand faces, and accents, and languages, and voices, and mannerisms. Artie's disguises even had him guessing sometimes.

But perhaps most importantly was the new security risk this girl could be for all of them. Up till now, neither of them had family that could be used as hostages or leverage against them, but regardless of the blood relation, Joy could be a very valuable bargaining chip to one of the mastermind evil types they so frequently seem to run across. And of course not only could she be used as a persuasive tool against Artie, but himself as well. If Artie was her father, then he was her uncle. Artie was more family than he'd had in a long time… a very long time. He fully regarded him as his brother, and he knew Artie felt the same.

He'd play devil's advocate tomorrow about the girl truly being Artie's daughter. He smiled to himself. He might earn himself a black eye exploring that angle. Artie was pretty tender right now, but he needed to stay objective and clear headed as his partner was not in that position right now.

He finally arrived at the top of the embankment, and he reminisced as the train glowed warmly at the bottom. His home, his family and maybe it just got a bit bigger. That was ok. He wouldn't mind being Uncle Jim even if it was never said aloud.


	3. Chapter 3

CHAPTER THREE

It was a long night. Jim decided to sleep in the parlor instead of his stateroom, knowing he could hear more clearly through the open parlor car windows than in his room. He didn't think that he'd slept but discovered that he had dozed off for a few hours when the early rays of sun woke him. There was no sign of Artie but he was certain he'd be along soon. He started the coffee. If nothing else that would get a reaction of either amazement, or complaint as his coffee was never as good as Artie's.

It wasn't too soon after that the door opened quietly and his partner walked in. Artemus never enjoyed sleeping outside and Jim guessed he probably had been up all night anyway.

"Hi, Jim". His voice bordered on being meek. He headed for the table, sat down and braced his head with his hands.

"Coffee?" Jim asked with a bright smile.

"What?" came the confused reply.

"Do you want some coffee? I made it your way. It's not too bad. You want some?

"Yeah, sure."

Seeing him close up, Artie looked like hell. The white flour that had dusted his features yesterday had settled in the wrinkles in his forehead and eyes giving him a grayish cast. If he didn't know better, he would have thought Artie was creating another character disguise, a ghoulish one for sure. The flour had plastered itself in his hair making his usual curls stick up in odd directions adding to his bizarre ghost like appearance.

Jim placed the cup in front of him and sat across the table.

He fingered his cup, waiting for Artie to say something, but nothing was forth coming. They sat in silence for minutes, Jim even wondering if Artie remembered he was there. He still had Joy's picture tucked in his shirt. He hesitated to show it to him, hoping for a better time.

Finally he said, " I don't mean to be indelicate, but are you sure she's yours?" Artie picked up his head and didn't seem to realize he'd been spoken too. "What?"

Jim repeated, " Artie are you sure she's your daughter? You know there are plenty of people out there who have a score to settle with you, who've threatened you and me and who would do almost anything to mess you up."

His partner looked at him blankly for a moment, as if he'd asked a question about the surface of Mars, or what lies at the bottom of the sea. "Like I told you yesterday, I always knew something was wrong. And Amanda wouldn't lie about something like that, and she wasn't that kind of girl to have multiple male friends if that's what you're getting at."

Jim say a glimpse of anger come through his last remark as his formally dull brown eyes suddenly lit up.

"No Artie, I didn't mean anything against Amanda. I'm sure she is...was a very nice woman. I just mean other people, bad people could have gotten involved and twisted a tale that isn't true."

He watched as the other man went to a boil in less than a second. He slammed his fist to the table knocking over the coffee. "No! You're wrong! You're all wrong!" He spun up from the table suddenly on fire as the anger vented through him like the steam from the locomotive. In two huge strides he stood in the middle of the car and in a fearsome voice yelled, "You're wrong! The girl is mine! And it's my fault for being so stupid, … so carried away with the passion of the moment! I should be shot for what I did to Amanda, to Joy, to her family!"

He fiercely ran his hands through his already rumpled hair, and slammed both open hands down on the back of the couch, his face twisted with rage. Turning he punched the side of the car with a powerful left hook. The shock vibrated through the wall as the wood paneling shattered from the blow.

Then suddenly he was on his knees from the resulting pain of a possible broken hand.

Jim was on his feet and started to run toward him but then realized that it would be best to give his friend a moment to compose himself.

"I'll get some ice," he said hurriedly and he returned with a large oil skin bag and handed it to his friend who had moved himself to the edge of the couch. Artie's face was contorted in pain and between the accidental flour disguise and his hair sticking up in all directions, Jim couldn't stop himself from chuckling.

"Partner, you are a mess!"

Artie looked at him, first with anguish and confusion in his eyes, than began to consider his preposterous appearance, as well as his recent behavior and he also began to chuckle. They had survived so much together and apart, although this was a very different kind of challenge, he knew he'd get through it… somehow.

"Yeah, I guess I am pretty rough looking. Good thing ole Judge Amos can't see me now, he'd have me drawn and quartered first." Artie replied, life returning to his expression.

"Probably not. No I think he'd have you dredged in flour and butter and then fried up nice and crispy," Jim added brightly. "Do you think you broke your hand?" he added seriously.

"Close to it, but nah, it's not broken." He gingerly worked his fingers wincing as he tried to straighten them.

"Come on. I'll put some hot water on for you to clean up with. And keep the ice on your hand."

He pulled his friend up off the couch and propelled him towards the galley.

After cleaning up, and a change of clothes, Artie was still preoccupied, but more himself. His left hand was pretty swollen, but he could still move his fingers so there wasn't much to do but let it heal on its own. Jim bandaged it up, mostly to hold down the swelling and as a reminder to his partner not to use it.

He cooked up some eggs, made another pot of coffee and they sat down at the table together. Artie seemed more able to deal with his new station in life. He said he'd need to send a telegram to Colonial Richmond asking for time off. Of course Jim reminded him that based on Judge Wilson contacting President Grant directly, all parties were aware of the situation.

"Artie, did you see her picture?" Jim asked with a measure of caution.

"No. There was a picture?"

Jim pulled it from his shirt. Artie took it and stood, studying it closely as he walked through the parlor. "She's pretty, isn't she?" he said with a touch of pride.

"Yes, she's beautiful. How that could be seeing as she's your daughter, I don't know," Jim teased, "but she is a beautiful young lady. Smart too, according to the letter. Another mystery." He smiled and was rewarded with the first genuine grin from his friend.

"Well daughter in name alone," Artie replied. "I don't know her and she probably knows less about me."

"I bet she knows a lot about you," Jim said. "I bet you'll find Amanda talked about you a lot, your work, the cases we've worked on. I wouldn't be surprised if she's seen your picture. You may not know her now but that will change with time."

Artie's mood changed abruptly to serious, clearly feeling like happiness was not an emotion he was allowed. He said, "I'll go over these papers and head out in the morning." His manner was now all business. He took the thick envelope, pushed the picture into the middle of the papers and moved to sit down in one of the chairs by the window.

"Well the train is going that way anyway, so no need to rush."

"What do you mean?"

Jim rubbed his hands together casually as he spoke. "Remember that case in Cincinnati of counterfeiting?" Artie nodded. "Well it all seemed to have disappeared when we got called away to Denver and the case took a back burner. Well there's been some recent activity around Columbus, just south of Indianapolis. Colonial Richmond thought I might check it out while you're involved with the good Judge Wilson. So the train will travel to Indianapolis and I'll just ride down to Columbus for a day or two and check things out."

He finished with a big smile and an exaggerated spreading of his arms as a symbol of –it- all- fits- together. He knew Artie was going to see straight through it.

"So you're going to come to Indianapolis with me as my babysitter, right?" Artie was standing now as he confronted the other man with the obvious truth.

"No." Jim held his ground but wore a happy grin. "It's a good time to check out this case. The Chinese gang racket in San Francisco isn't going anywhere, and Jeremy Pike has been requesting an assignment over there. This is a much more subtle case and once you've finished your business, you can pick it up." He gave the other man a friendly pat on the shoulder and turned back toward the table. He didn't want to come under cross examination.

"Whose idea?" Artie asked belligerently crossing his arms across his chest.

"Colonial Richmond, like I said," came the answer as Jim disappeared into the galley.

"Sounds more like James West to me," mumbled Artie under his breath. He sat down again, took out the papers and began reading.

_WWWWW._

_Preview of chapter four: Judge Amos Wilson vs Artemus Gordon!_


	4. Chapter 4

CHAPTER FOUR

The sign read: The Office of the Honorable Judge Amos T. Wilson

Circuit Court of Appeals.

Artemus straightened his white shirt collar and fixed his tie. He brushed the non-existent trail dust off his brown tailcoat for the fourth time, which was dust free when he brushed it off the third time. It was one of his favorite formal coats for official meetings and paired with it, he wore a richly brocade vest. Normally he would have been as cool as a mountain stream in spring yet in spite of it all, he was nervous as a rabbit in a pack of coyotes. He took a few deep breathes and knocked on the heavy dark oak door.

"Mr Gordon, come in," a deep thick voice answered from the other side. He entered into a large dark paneled office with the prevailing odor of old leather bound books. The walls were lined with tall cases of neatly organized volumes. The Judge met him at the door. He didn't take Artemus's offered hand, preferring to keep his hands firmly grasped behind his back.

He was a tall man, now stooped with age, probably handsome in his youth, but these days his major features were a series of deep wrinkles and a permanent frown. He had the round girth of a man with a successful life and a thinning head of grey hair. His voice was deep and booming, gravelly and rough. He was used to scaring people.

As soon as the door closed, he began, his voice blasting around his large office. "My niece protected you for years, pleading with me not to go after you. Now she's gone and I find that you have another protector, Ulysses Grant, no less!"

Artie stood attentive. He knew he was in for a verbal whipping and in his heart knew he deserved it. The older man circled him, like a grizzly bear waiting to strike. He looked straight ahead. He had it coming.

"For what you did to my niece, I'd have you hung!" His voice boomed and he followed it up with a raised fist as a life sized exclamation point on the end of his statement. He had obviously waited for this opportunity for years and he was not going to be robbed of one moment.

"Yes, Sir" Artie responded.

"Leaving her like that, while you go off gallivanting the country!"

"Sir, I'm not sure I'd call joining the Union Army, and the Civil War, _gallivanting_." Artie's voice was even, but strong.

The older man steamed at the remark, but didn't dispute it. He continued pacing.

"You and that James West have probably left a trail of tears behind you, haven't you? Two strong, handsome men bank rolled by the Federal government, traveling in that train of sin. No gentlemen are you two!"

"Sir, you may think of me as you will, and what I did was wrong. I do not dispute it. But if you want to disparage James West, you should do so to his face."

The old Judge's eyes narrowed and he stood face to face with the younger man, only inches from touching noses. "She loved you, you know!" The Judge was still running high on energy, and his arrow finally found its mark as Artemus turned his gaze to the floor. "Yes, Sir and I loved her." He brought his gaze back up to meet the man's furious eyes.

"A hell of a way to show it!" His voice rumbled through the space like approaching thunder.

"I asked her to marry me and she refused me," he held the Judge's eyes as he continued his pacing back and forth in front of him.

"Probably the first smart thing she did." He huffed out the remark. The old man's anger showed no sign of waning. "If I hadn't been able to help that girl with false adoption papers both she and YOUR daughter would have suffered the ill will of many of these fine town's people."

"Yes, Sir," Artie said but thought to himself if these fine town's people are so prejudiced so as not to accept an innocent child and a mother on her own, I have to question your assessment of these people as _fine_. Artie flashed with momentary anger. He quickly gained control of himself and continued calmly, "I am sincerely grateful for all you and Mrs Wilson have done for Amanda and Joy."

"As well you should be." The old man spat back.

There was a lengthy pause while neither man spoke or moved, Artie kept his gaze forward, while the Judge attempted to bore a hole through him with his fiery glare.

Finally the old man spoke, gruffly but more calmly than before, "Grant thinks the world of you and your partner. Says he'd trust you with his life, says you've stood in for him, disguised as him, ready and willing to take an assassins bullet for him!"

"Yes, Sir," Artie confirmed in an even tone.

"Humpf," the old Judge grunted. "It doesn't make up for what you did."

"No, Sir. It doesn't." He hesitated a moment. "I only wish I knew."

"Foolish girl, falling for a man like you, when we introduced her to multiple, responsible steady, and respectable young men. But no, she has to fall in love with a rogue, an actor."

"And now a federal law-man." Artie finished the sentence for him.

The Judge stared at him with his small grey piercing eyes.

"Sir, what I did was wrong. I can't turn back the hands of time, but I will try to make up for my mistake now." The old man stood directly in front of him, his arms folded across his chest. "Go on," he said.

"I will insure Joy goes to the best school, and I will support her, leaving the money Amanda set aside for her to be used when she is grown and ready to marry, or pursue a career, or perhaps both. I do not know how to be a father, but I will learn. But I will _never_ burden her with the truth of our relationship. I travel at the will of the President, but Joy's needs will always be primary. If I need to leave the Secret Service, I will. I have already told Colonial Richmond of my new circumstance, and he is willing to try to work it out with me. He also realizes that I will resign my position if need be."

"Humpf!" the old man grunted again.

He moved over to his desk and sat down purposefully. Artemus continued to stand, turning towards the desk, grasping his hands behind his back.

The man calmed down as he spoke of his grand niece. "Joy is a very bright young lady. Curious about everything. Always has a book in her hand. She is understandably devastated by her mother's death. The poor girl believes she has lost two sets of parents: Amanda's cousins who never had children, but she believes were her actual mother and father, and then Amanda's husband, Howard, and now Amanda. It's a lot for a child to deal with, isn't it Mr Gordon." His voice returned to stern, unrelenting.

"Indeed it is, Sir."

The old man continued to scrutinize the man in front of him. Truth be told, he knew who Artemus Gordon was and his partner James West. They were achieving legendary status for their bravery and extraordinary skill they possessed in successfully dealing with so many evils to the newly reunited nation. In his initial contact with Grant, the President told him he could and should take any legal action against Gordon that was lawful, but if his niece never told him of their illegitimate daughter there really was no basis of a legal case. The President went on to praise the man and his partner telling the Judge that he should try to see the agent in full picture. And although the Judge didn't want to, he could see how his niece had fallen for such a man.

"May I ask what Joy understands of my relationship to Amanda?" The question jolted the man out of his momentary musing.

He continued in his authoritative tone, "She knows you to be a good friend of her mother's, but with no romantic ties. Amanda spoke of you often especially as you and your partner's exploits became news events. I believe she will think of you as a cousin or an uncle, but you are at no time to tell her of your actual relationship. It would be devastating to the girl, and to know that she was conceived in sin is a burden she should never have to carry as well as a black spot on the family name." The old man twisted in his chair seeking a more comfortable position, his mood slowly cooling. He continued, "My wife is ill and, unable to deal with the needs of a young woman and I am … elderly and I don't have the patience I used to for young people." He stopped realizing he'd revealed more personal information than he intended to.

"Yes, Sir," Artie replied stoically. "When will I meet her, Sir?"

"Now," the Judge replied curtly. He quickly rose from his desk, brushed by the man and opened the office door. He bellowed to an unseen person outside, and turned to watch Artemus as Joy entered.

It was quick and a surprise, and one that he wasn't prepared for. Another punishment from the Judge he guessed, that he'd meet his daughter here and now with no further opportunity to prepare.

A young woman walked in dressed in the dark colors of mourning, but as far as Artie was concerned the dark hue of her clothes couldn't hide the intelligence in her eyes. He had to remind himself to breathe, and calm his heart which felt like it had climbed into his throat and decided to stay.

"Hello Mr Gordon," she said as she confidently extended her hand to him. He choked on his first response and had to fake a cough to cover his initial reaction.

"Hello, Joy," he simply said. She was of medium height for a woman, maybe 5'2" or 5'3". What caught his attention was her long dark wavy hair and deep brown eyes. Amanda was a blue eyed, dark blond with straight hair that she always cursed for its unruliness, a bale of hay, she used to call it.

Recovering quickly he added, "I am pleased to meet you, but I am very sorry for the circumstances. Your mother was a very good friend of mine, a wonderful, intelligent woman. I shall miss her." He realized he was risking a tear escaping, and quickly stopped.

There was a long moment of silence as Artie was momentarily speechless and the young woman too shy to speak. The Judge hoped that this was as uncomfortable for the government man as a burr in one's backside.

Finally Joy said quietly, "Do you work for the government?" she asked.

"Yes, yes I do," he replied a little too hastily. He realized he was more nervous at that moment then wading into enemy territory with a new untested disguise. "So, I probably won't see you too much," she responded bravely.

His heart sank, and if he could have signed his resignation papers there and then he would have. "Oh, no I'll see you… well as much as I can! I do tend to travel but I have my own telegraph machine, and… I can always get back to see you if you need me… We go through Indianapolis a LOT you know…" He realized he was beginning to border on incoherent rambling.

A firm knock at the door came just at that moment. The Judge glared at the offending door, not happy with an interruption. Before he could speak, a man in a blue suit, and bolero style jacket entered, wearing a large charming smile, his hat in his hands.

"Excuse me. Judge Wilson, I presume?"

"Yes, and who are you and how did you get in here?" he demanded gruffly. He puffed out his barrel chest and stood with one hand hooked on his lapel firmly.

"James West, Sir. I didn't see anyone outside so I just walked in."

Artie just stared at his partner knowing exactly how he got in. He pulled off some benign diversion, thankfully no fighting seemed to be involved, causing whomever was on sentinel duty to get distracted, and of course he was able to 'just' walk in.

"Hi, Artie," he gave a small wave.

"Jim, what are doing here?" The question was flavored with embarrassment, wonder, and annoyance so that it came out sounding far too urgent.

"Oh, I just finished up early and thought I'd stop by," he said, all with an ear to ear grin and the innocence of a new born.

He quickly surveyed the room and found what he was looking for.

"Miss Leslie, I presume. Pleased to meet you. I'm James West", _but you can call me Uncle Jim _he thought to himself. If this girl wasn't Artie's daughter someone had gone through a great deal of trouble and many years to set this up. Her large expressive eyes and softly rounded features were all Artie. He could see his partner's mounting aggravation and wasn't surprised when he asked for a moment to excuse themselves and he steered him into the outer office.

"Jim! What are you doing here?" he whispered angrily.

"Like I said I finished up early and thought I'd come by. A little moral support, you know what I mean. Looks like if Judge Wilson had a meat grinder in there, you'd be up for dinner tonight."

"Jim, I don't need your help!" Artie rushed out under his breath.

"Yeah, I know you don't, but I wanted to meet Joy too you know," he said lightly. "Makes me an uncle, you know! Come on you don't want to keep the old Judge waiting. Keep him waiting much longer and he might just finish you off." With a big smile he steered the still fuming Artemus Gordon back into the Judge's chambers. Of course Artie had to resume a respectful manner, which was just what Jim planned.

The Judge stood both hands firmly locked on the lapels of his dark grey frock coat. "So, have you gentlemen saved the country once more?" he asked sarcastically.

"Yes, Sir," Jim said brightly, and pushing all boundaries, he added, "Everyday, Sir."

"Humpf," the old man relinquished that round.

In the meantime, Joy stepped forward. "You are Mr Gordon's partner?"

"Yes, Miss," Jim replied feeling very much in charge of the situation now.

She looked at both of them, and a tight nervous smile began to bloom. "You know President Grant, don't you?" she said.

"Why, yes I do," replied Artie with renewed energy, "We both do."

Warming up a bit, Joy took a few stops toward them both. "I'd love to meet him… someday," she added more hesitantly, looking at the Judge nervously.

He gave her a slight nod, and with more confidence she continued. "His strategy during the war, particularly the Battle of Richmond, was brilliant. Of course many lives were lost…," she cast her eyes down for a moment, "but he is a remarkable leader." She finished glancing at the old man for reassurance.

"Well, I'm sure we can work on that," Artie said, happy to have the attention off of him even if only for a moment, and also feeling an unexpected surge of pride.

Judge Wilson knew his barrage on Artemus Gordon was over for the time being. He loved this girl and although he was not happy one bit with this guardian arrangement, he'd make sure it worked. It was his niece's final wish and he had made her a promise. "I've asked my cook to prepare lunch for us in my chambers," he said motioning towards the door. "Mr West, will you join us?"

Jim stole a quick glance at Artie, who looked down at the floor at the precise moment. "No, Sir, but thank you. I need to send a telegraph to Washington. Perhaps another time."

There was no change in the Gordon's face when he looked up again, but the silent exchange was not lost on Judge Wilson. No wonder they're such a team he thought.

As they moved toward the door, Joy asked a question. "Mr Gordon, may I ask a question?" He stopped in his tracks. His heart froze and the room went fuzzy for a minute, as in his head he heard the words, "_Are you my father?" _

"What shall I call you Mr Gordon? I've never had a guardian before, of course I've never been on my own before." Her eyes were innocent and so trusting, Artie had to bite his tongue. "_DAD!" _The voice in his head screamed the word so loud he would have thought the whole court house could hear it. But he never let on as he smiled warmly at her and dared to lightly touch her arm. "Well, I guess Mr Gordon for now, and we'll figure something out later."

As they started to file out of the room, Jim caught the Judges arm. "Sir, may I speak to you for a moment?" Artie stopped glancing back with a quizzical look, but Jim waved him on with a smile. Fortunately, and with good judgment, Artie decided not to push the point and he continued out the door with Joy. The Judge waited till they were alone. He walked to his large oak desk which was probably made with enough wood to build a small ship, and sat down. His gout was acting up. "So Mr West, are you here to tell me what a stellar man your friend Mr Gordon is, because if you are I'm not interested."

"No, Sir. I don't need to say it. His record in the War and after speaks for itself. His relationship with your niece took a turn it shouldn't have and I can guarantee you Mr Gordon regrets it deeply."

"Yes, so I've heard. Go on."

"I don't mean to be rude, Sir, but is there any question, any doubt at all that Joy is Mr Gordon's blood relation? It's important, Sir, for everyone's safety."

The old man was just about ready to launch himself at this impetuous man, when the meaning of his last sentence bore a hole in his heart: the possibility that Joy could be used as a tool, a weapon against Gordon. Given his job, their frequent association with nefarious, wicked, often deranged killers, it was a real threat.

He slumped in his chair. "No, there is no doubt. I was with Amanda when she returned home the end of that summer and she told me the truth, I have no reason to believe otherwise. And in case you haven't noticed, there is a close resemblance."

"Yes, Sir. I saw that." He continued. "How many people know of this new situation?"

"No one other than the four of us, Ulysses and Colonial Richmond."

"Then it must be kept this way. The fewest people who know of this arrangement the better, Sir."

"Yes, I see your point." The Judge stood up. "Mr West, I'm sure your telegram can wait a few minutes. Why don't you join us for lunch." He paused. "I realize Mr Gordon doesn't want you there for some reason, but I'd like you to be my guest. As you two work together I think it would beneficial if you also got a chance to know my grand niece."

He walked purposefully towards the door clearly not entertaining any disagreement. He liked this brash but charming young fellow, a man he could identify with. He was much like him in his young days: viral, handsome, strong and charming. And it would be a good idea to have another person whom he could communicate with on Joy's behalf other than Gordon, whom he'd always despise. He would tolerate the man for the sake of Amanda's memory and that's as far as he would go.

Yes, Gordon didn't want West to come to lunch and that's just why West was coming.

"Coming, Mr West?" He turned at the door.

Artie won't be happy about this, Jim thought to himself, but the Judge has some kind of game going and he'd play along for his partner's and _niece's _ benefit. Just like Aunt Maude would say: sometimes to win you've got to start out by losing.

"Right behind you, Sir."


	5. Chapter 5

CHAPTER FIVE

They walked to the small private dining room together. Alone with Joy, Artie felt fine, relaxed even. She was silent initially, smiling apprehensively. Their footsteps made a muffled thump on the polished wood floor. "You must have a good riding horse," she said. He realized she had been looking at his boots as they walked.

"I do have a good horse, a handy chestnut gelding, named Mesa. He's not the best looking horse out there but he's a good hard working animal." He kept his voice even, but a thrill went through him. _She's not afraid of me! She's talking to me, maybe she even likes me. _"How about you, do you like to ride?"

"I know how to ride. Mom, that's what I called Amanda because she really was like my mother, she taught me. We used to ride together sometimes. Mom was good with horses. She was good with everything." She spoke with quiet confidence and a stroke of sadness that broke his heart.

"Your mom… Amanda was a wonderful woman." He realized he couldn't stay on this theme without dipping into tough emotional ground for himself. Better not to go there today, he thought. Switching gears he said brightly, "Well maybe we could go riding together, maybe even tomorrow."

"That would be nice," she said with controlled enthusiasm.

Feeling more confident he said, "So what else do you like to do? I hear you like to read."

"Oh yes," she became more animated. "I like to read a lot. Father used to say girls shouldn't read so much because men don't like women who are smarter than them, but Mom disagreed. Sometimes she and father disagreed about things like that." She quickly hushed. "I shouldn't talk like that about my parents. It's disrespectful. Please excuse me." She turned from the hallway and walked quickly into the Judge's small dining room, moving to the window and looked out over the street below.

Artie stood in the hall watching her flooded again with overlapping feelings of pride, and shame that he had not investigated Amanda's life further even though he sensed something was wrong, but mostly an overwhelming desire to make everything better right now. Hell, he and Jim had defeated evil masterminds who would have killed thousands of people, matched wits with geniuses and won through trickery, deceit and courage. And yet at this moment he felt imprisoned and punished by a sixteen year old lie.

He looked down the hallway and saw Judge Wilson with Jim walking towards him. What's he doing here?

The Judge walked by nodding to him tepidly, and waited for Jim to come up behind him. He wrapped an arm around the younger man's shoulder, and said to Artie, "Mr Gordon, I felt it would be rude for your compatriot not to join us, so I convinced him that Washington could wait, till after lunch." His eyes were contemptuous as we walked past him into the dining room.

Artie started to laugh to himself. If the old man thought that somehow having James West with him meant that he'd get an upper hand, he had a big surprise coming. He hadn't wanted Jim to come for the same reason he didn't want him showing up in the first place. He'd handled bigger bullies than Judge Wilson successfully, but seeing as Wilson had insisted Jim come, lunch was going to be interesting.

He followed the Judge into the dining room and walked to the window, gently putting a hand on Joy's delicate shoulder. Her structure felt like many other women he'd known and yet there was an electricity that went through him. Not the thrill of romantic love, but the warm tingle of fatherly love- he guessed that is what you'd call it. She turned her head to look up at him and a thin but genuine smile flickered on her lips. He gave her a little squeeze and said, "Come on, I'll find us a seat." She gave him a weak smile and turned towards the table.

Jim stopped at the doorway, mesmerized by the tiny drama playing out at the window. When Artie and Joy turned toward him he was stunned by the resemblance. Artie stood just off to her side, a hand lovingly at her shoulder as if they were positioned for a portrait. The hair, eyes, facial shape even their complexions were the same.

"Jim, you ok?" Artie asked as he pulled out a chair for his daughter at the table. "You look like you forgot something."

"No, thanks I'm fine. Actually I was thinking about something I need to send back to the Colonial, but I'll do it after we eat." Artie clearly caught the lie, but gave a nod of tacit acknowledgement.

The Judge stood at the head of the table apparently unaware of the scene Jim had just witnessed. He waited till Joy was seated and then motioned for the two men to sit. Joy sat on the left side of the older man with Artie sitting next to her and Jim took the Judge's right side.

The table was set simply with an economy of dishes and silverware, it was fitting with the Judge's no-nonsense style. An older woman in kitchen dress brought out a hearty chicken stew with biscuits, and warm butter. She placed a pitcher of cold water in the center of the table and poured coffee for the men. She returned a few moments later with a glass of cold milk for the girl and then left.

After a brief blessing given by Joy, they began. At first they ate in silence, Artie certainly wasn't wadding into the old man's snake pit again by starting conversation. Joy looked about sensing the tension in the room, but it was finally the Judge that broke the silence.

"So tell me, Mr West, I understand you are the brains of your partnership, and Mr Gordon plays a more… supporting role."

The man wasn't going to give it up, and suddenly Artie was feeling very relieved Jim had decided to stay.

Jim wiped his mouth as he leaned back in his chair. "Excellent stew Judge Wilson. Please compliment your cook for me." The Judge gave a sly nod but it wiped off his face soon after, as Jim began to speak.

"No, actually it's Artemus who runs the show." His voice was serious. "I only do a little scouting, and help out whenever he tells me." He watched as his partner turned his head toward the door, feigning a cough as a wild grin stretched across his face.

"Artemus does all the planning and executing of the scheme, whatever it might be. And you should see him in a fight! Why I've seen him take on six men by _himself _and beat them all. He's like a cat on his feet. Amazing!"

The Judge looked at Artemus who gave an embarrassed shrug of humble acknowledgement as he continued eating. Joy's expression was awe as she stole a quick glimpse at the man beside her.

Jim was on a roll. "And the disguises that he invents… well _I_ don't even know it's him sometimes." In his mind he had a quick vision of Lighning McCoy; for that disguise he wasn't making a fib. He continued, "What the man can't handle with his fists and a gun, he bamboozles with guile and cunning." Jim was smiling like the proud winner of the county pig race championship.

At this point, Artie began to choke. "Oh excuse me," he said, "that last bite went down too quickly." He smiled lavishly.

The Judge sat back in his seat giving West a critical eye. He knew how they worked as a team, in his position he had access to detailed information and had done his homework before Gordon arrived. He knew that Gordon was famous for his disguises, but West was legendary with his fists and quick with a gun. He had hoped to draw out the latter man's ego with the chance he would paint his partner as an underling, a minor player. He realized he'd been beaten at his own game as Joy continued to eat stealing shy glances at the man beside her.

He began in a deliberate irrefutable voice, "Tell me Mr Gordon, do you always travel with a guard dog?" an obvious reference to his partner.

"Oh no, Sir. We couldn't keep a dog on the train. We move so frequently I'm afraid it would get lost." This time it was Jim's turn to swallow the deep chuckle that sat on the tip of his tongue. Although Artemus was enjoying the game Jim had started, he was becoming concerned that all of these double meanings and barely disguised barbs was getting confusing to Joy. What bothered him the most though was she was going to rapidly figure out the Judge's agenda, and start to wonder why the old man hated him so much.

It was time to be done with this. He leaned into the table, wagging his eye brows and said in a slightly conspiratorial voice which added intrigue to his new idea. "I think tomorrow Jim and I should ride in, pick up this beautiful young lady and take a ride out to the train. I bet we could get Orrin, that's our engineer, to even take us for a spin on the Iron Horse." He poured on the charm. "What do you say; doesn't that sound like a wonderful idea?"

Before the Judge could interrupt, Jim jumped right in with, "And while we're out, you can show Joy your laboratory on the train, and we'll even make a picnic lunch and ride out to the lake!" If Artie had poured on the charm, Jim added the excitement. "I bet she'd like to meet Black Jack, that's my horse," he added quickly, "That horse has some amazing tricks. He's quite an animal. You'll love him."

The Judge tried to interrupt again but now Joy's face was bright and full of excitement. She said, "Oh that would be such fun! I haven't gone for a ride since…. for a long time. Can I go, please Uncle Amos?"

"Well, perhaps," he paused, "I'll see if I can clear my schedule and come along."

"Oh, no need for that Sir," Jim chimed in. "Between the two of us we can handle any Indian renegades, warring bands of Gypsies, or misplaced Russian Cossacks we might come across, can't we Artie."

The Judge was beginning to see the obvious flaw in his thinking when he insisted West come along for lunch. Instead of gaining an upper hand, he now had a two against one situation and the two agents were busy driving home their substantial advantage while his hands were tied so as not to spoil what his grand niece saw as a wonderful day.

Just to seal the deal, Artemus added, "Seeing as Joy and I will have many years together, I think it's a great idea we maximize the time we have now so we get to know each other." He said the words with a smile but as Jim distracted the young woman with stories of Black Jack's exploits, Artie flashed the Judge a hard stern look of _knock-it-off_.

Lunch continued more amiably with Jim answering all her questions regarding the railroad routes the Wanderer followed, and Artemus adding a few details about the locomotive itself. The Judge listened but added little to the conversation other than an occasional, "Humph."

Over a delicious apple pie they talked a little bit about her plans for further education. She said she'd like to go to college like Amanda to become a scientist or a doctor. Both men told stories of the brilliant women they'd met over the years, without adding the nefarious details of Miss Emma Valentine, or Dr Faustina and a few other equally sinister ladies. These women were not exactly role models but certainly evidence that a woman can be just as smart as any man.

Over her head the Judge shot a terse look at Artemus, clearly stating with his eyes his concern for college. The look was not lost on him and he made a mental note that however he addressed it, the birds and bees and college boyfriends would have to be a very important conversation with her.

The Judge had cases to hear in the afternoon and although he was not thrilled with the idea, he agreed to let Joy spend the next day with Gordon, but stipulating that she was to return no later than six in the evening.

As Jim walked out with the young woman, Artie hung back for a minute. "Judge may I speak with you?"

"Yes?" was the icy reply.

"I know you detest me and probably always will. But for Joy's sake, can we declare a truce on the verbal barbs, and game playing? Joy is a smart young woman and at some point she's going to wonder why all this hostility."

The Judge took a deep audible breath and looking down his thin boney nose at the government agent he said, "Alright Mr Gordon, but I'll tell you just what I worry about. Right now to you she's like a new toy, a puppy, something fun and interesting, but what happens when she is in tears with a broken heart, or lost and lonely and you're a thousand miles away. What happens then?"

Artemus gave a short considered nod. He had already thought about this. "Amanda must have had her reasons when she chose me, and I have to guess that in her reasoning she believed it was best for Joy and that I could make it work. As I said, I'll leave the Secret Service if I have to." His words were spoken with convection.

"And will this be just like when she was a child and burning with Scarlet Fever? You weren't there then?" Under his facade of rationalism, the old man still steamed.

"Sir, where I was then was: _unaware_. I couldn't help something I knew nothing about." He held out his hand with a confident somber face. The old man narrowed his eyes as Artie continued to hold his hand out. Grudgingly he took it. "I do this only for my grand niece," he said.

"Yes, Sir. That's all I ask."


	6. Chapter 6

CHAPTER SIX

The air was clear and cool with a bright blue sky. He'd slept better than he had in weeks and for the first time in as many days he felt hopeful that he could work this out. Perhaps he wouldn't have to leave the Secret Service, but take a managerial job perhaps as a second in command to Richmond. It would keep him in one place and out of field work which was where danger thrived.

There was only one problem and it was a big: Jim.

James West was the best field agent in the country, better than himself he would acknowledge. But what made Jim so good was exactly the same thing that would get him killed: his gut instinct to take the risk, go in the front door and then fight his way out. It had only worked for all these years and so many cases because he was always right there behind him.

Yes, there were plenty of times when they both had been caught in the web of some evil master mind's scheme, but together they had worked out their escape and ultimately smashed the depraved plot and the villains behind it. No one else, not even the best field agents the Secret Service had could anticipate James West's next thought, next move, like he could. He known for years that was the only reason either one of them was still alive. And if the situation was reversed and it was he who was trapped at heaven's doorstep, Jim always was there for him. He shuddered to think of some of those close calls, but he never doubted or at least not too many times, that Jim would show up in the nick of time. They were an unbeatable as a team, so far…. If he left Jim with another partner, he feared Jim West's days were numbered. Yes, Jim had worked with other agents when he was stationed in Washington, but it was all temporary and those other men were the best agents Richmond had. That's not the way it would work if Jim were to assigned a new permanent partner.

_I can work this out_, _but_ _how_? The question buzzed in his head as he rode to the Judge's home. But, all that would have to wait for at least today, as he saw Joy standing on the front porch of the large yellow house that was the residence of Judge and Mrs Amos Wilson.

Joy was dressed in black riding boots, and a light brown suede riding coat that set off the deep maroon color of her riding skirt. She excitedly waved to him and ran back into the house emerging with both the Judge and a small thin woman he assumed was Mrs Wilson.

He dismounted and climbed the stairs, removing his hat as he shook hands with the old man and the woman. "Mrs Wilson I presume. I am honored to meet you." His smile was genuine and he was rewarded with a demure but honest smile in return. The Judge returned a thin lipped scowl that Artie assumed was supposed to be an affable greeting.

"Mr Gordon. I've heard much about you from many sources." Mrs Wilson slid her eyes to her husband in a silent acknowledgement of his disapproval, but as she returned to his face her eyes were warm and accepting. Another example of opposites attracting he thought. She must supply the love and compassion in the family balancing the crustiness of her husband.

Joy stood rocking on her toes barely managing to contain herself. He thought how alive she looked today free from the strain of yesterday's meeting in the dark, formal space of her great uncle's court house.

He reviewed the day's agenda and assured them he would have her home in time for supper. Mrs Wilson suggested he might join them, to which he gave a generous but non-committal reply. The woman smiled again and said that if he was able to, how pleased she would be. He understood her completely. The Judge simply frowned but said nothing.

A middle aged man walked from around the back of the house with a small bay mare. Joy immediately ran up to the horse and thanked the man as she took the reins.

"This is Lady, my Mom's horse. She's a good horse, but she hasn't been ridden for awhile."

"We'll go easy on her then, won't we."

"Mr Gordon," the Judge said his voice deep and commanding, "I expect you to ride like a gentleman with my grand niece. No cowboy tricks. Do you agree?"

"Of course, Your Honor," he replied. He glanced towards the woman, whose eyes sparkled and she nodded in return.

Joy competently mounted while she waited for Artemus to say his goodbyes.

"Have fun, Dear." The woman waved to her. "And I hope you can join us tonight for dinner, Mr Gordon," she called to him. He watched as the Judge gave her a stern look which she ignored.

They turned their horses down the street and began the trip out of town.

They turned a few heads as they rode. He must have made the news he thought as a few people happily pointed and stared. The Judge had agreed to James's cover story that the two agents were working on a local case and had been invited to visit with the Judge and his family. He tipped his hat to the ladies and gave a small nod to the men. It reminded him of being on stage and he enjoyed the attention for what it was. I wonder how many people would be waving if they knew the truth, he wondered. But best not to ruminate on negative thoughts and as soon as they were clear of pedestrians and buckboards he kicked his horse to a slow trot. Joy fell right in beside him still wearing an ear to ear smile.

They chatted as they rode. "So how is Lady doing?"

"She's doing fine. I think she really likes it after being stuck in the livery."

"She looks good, not too stiff. You look good on her," he said smiling.

"Thank you, Mr Gordon." _DAD_, he heard in his head. "And thank you for taking me out today." She looked over at him with a relaxed pleased expression, and he could feel his heart melt.

"You're welcome," he said. "I have a feeling you haven't been out too much either."

"Well Aunt Betty, that's Uncle Amos's wife… and of course you know they are really my great aunt and uncle…, she's taken me out for some shopping but that's about it. Don't get me wrong I love them both, but they're elderly and sometimes Uncle Amos gets cranky." He nodded in agreement.

"Like yesterday, he seemed awfully angry at you and I don't know why?" She paused looking at him. "Do you?"

She was a smart girl and confident enough to ask questions. He answered, "Maybe he's still upset about Amanda's passing." He kept his eyes forward. This had to be the toughest part he'd ever played as an actor, and he knew he was going to have to stay focused or he'd never pull it off. He could play a character of his creation, but this was different: he was playing himself except with a big fat lie in the middle.

Changing subjects quickly he said, "I think Lady is ready for an easy lope. You ready?"

"Sure," she said almost beaming.

He kicked his horse to a lope and the little mare fell right alongside again. With the wind in her hair and the grin that graced her face, he knew he'd never seen anyone more beautiful in his life. She tugged her hat down on her head and leaned into the animal. It was clear that both horse and rider were ready for more. She was indeed a good rider so he urged his horse to a faster lope. She looked over at him with a huge smile. The road was smooth and the air still cool.

He pushed his hat down hard on his head and kicked his horse to a gallop and watched as Joy let out a yell and let the little bay have her head. The two horses challenged each other and soon the ground flew by as if they had wings. He was elated to see her come to life, with sparkle in her eyes and spirit in her heart. The powerful strokes of the horses' legs propelled them even faster. His own horse seemed to have renewed enthusiasm for racing as he finally had a horse that he could beat. Too many times he'd been racing with his stable mate and could just never pull out enough speed to run the black horse down.

The horses continued to race each other, the wind tearing his eyes and beating his shirt until the little mare began to tire. He was certain she would have continued to challenge his own horse far longer, but for her lack of exercise. As they pulled the horses to a walk he laughed, slapping his leg with delight.

"You ok?" he asked with a big grin.

"Oh yes! That was fun!" She reached forward and briskly patted the animal's neck and then flopped down and hugged it. "Lady is a good horse, isn't she Mr Gordon?"

"She sure is and a fast girl too." In his mind's eye he could see Amanda riding the animal, her blond hair shinning in the sunlight. As if Joy read his mind, she said, "My Mom loved Lady. I think Lady misses her, I know I sure do." She reached down and patted the horse's neck again this time with slow thoughtful strokes, her voice melancholy. "She used to ride her every day, and Father would tell her not to gallop because it wasn't safe, and she always said she wouldn't, but you know what? She did."

"And how do you know this?" he asked feigning astonishment.

"She told me. She said it was ok to have a few small secrets from your husband. Do you think that's true?"

"Well, I certainly don't have a husband and I've never been married so I'm no expert, but it sounds reasonable to me."

As if joining in the conversation, the little mare shook her head and let out a loud snort which suddenly changed the mood from serious to silly as Joy giggled in return.

"Excusez-moi!" Artie said to the horse.

"Was that French?" she asked curiously.

"Puits oui il était. Vous m'aiment vous enseigner ?"

"Oh that's so exciting. Mother said you could speak a bunch of different languages! So what did you say?"

"I said: Yes that was French and would you like me to teach you?"

"Yes please," she answered.

"Then say: Oui, s'il vous plait."

She carefully repeated after him.

"Parfait!" he exclaimed.

They spent the rest of the ride to the train with French language lessons, the airy fields around them filled with his lengthy and overly emphasized banter in French and her careful repetition. Sprinkled about was her frequent laughter as he personified so many of the characters he'd created over the years from a German pastry chief to an amorous Portuguese sailor to a French wine merchant to a down and out bum.

They arrived at the Wanderer mid morning. She stopped staring at it wide- eyed. "That's yours?"

"Oui..., well not really. It belongs to the rail road and the federal government and every now and then we have to share it with the President, but he's not so bad." He looked over at her with mischief in his eyes.

"Wow! It's beautiful!" She continued to gawk at it, while puffs of black smoke lazily curled into the sky.

"Looks like Orrin has it fired up and ready for a ride. Have you ridden on a train before?"

"Well, yes once but I was too young to remember it. You think we're going to go for a ride?"

"Sure looks that way." The two horses moved at a comfortable lope to the coach. Jim stood at the rear platform, his arms crossed on his chest. He swore he could see the matching smiles on father and daughter from a mile away. They obviously had a successful trip and he grinned. After their first meeting yesterday, a fun invigorating ride together was just what they needed.

He walked down the steps and took the mare's reins as _my niece_, he thought to himself, dismounted. He'd made a makeshift corral in a nearby stand of trees for the two horses where they would be out of the sun and would wait while the Wanderer went for a short hop down the track.

Joy checked out the interior and bubbled about its luxurious furnishings saying she'd never even seen a house so beautiful. Jim showed her a few of the secret places like the small pigeon roost, and the map cabinet, but carefully didn't show her any of the hidden weaponry. If Artie noted the omission, he didn't say anything. She asked about the splintered wood paneling that still had not been repaired and Jim replied it was the result of one of the sofas sliding across the floor when the train had to make a sudden stop. Artie quietly slid his still bruised hand into his jacket pocket.

A loud blast from the whistle caused Joy to startle and she jumped, hitting Jim in the chest. He instinctively wrapped his arm around her protectively. "They'll be two more of those and we'll start moving," he said with a grin.

"Oh, excuse me," she moved back embarrassed by her sudden action. "I've never been so close to a train whistle, or least not that I remember!" She blushed as she turned to look at Artemus.

In his head, he envisioned beating off a swarm of young men all after his little girl.

"You better hold onto something because we're going to move in a minute." His words were drowned out by two sharp blasts and a creak and groan of awakened iron as the train lurched forward. This time she fell onto Jim as she was propelled backwards. With a laugh he caught her, and placed her hand on the stationary table for balance.

Her eyes lit up with so much excitement she forgot to be embarrassed and she moved to the window to watch as the country side started moving by. Orrin ran a few miles down the track never getting up to full speed but Joy couldn't have cared less. She watched out the window as the trees starting shooting by and the magic lullaby of the wheels on the tracks provided the music. Orrin had to reverse to return to their starting point and she asked if she could ride in the cab so she could watch the actual mechanics of the locomotive.

"Are you sure you want to ride up there?" Artie asked secretly pleased by her curiosity and lack of inhibition to show it. "It's dirty, hot and smelly," he warned.

"As long as I don't ruin my clothes, Aunt Betsy won't mind," she replied hopefully.

Jim wondered how Judge Wilson would feel about it but held his tongue.

Artie agreed and the two of them rode in the cab with Orrin with Artie attempting to yell above the drive pistons, the pounds per square inch of boiler steam and its relation to the speed of the locomotive. Orrin eyed the girl with approval. It was very rare for a girl to be interested in his machine. He didn't ask who she was or what she was doing here, as long as he got to drive his baby, he was happy.

They returned to the same spot where they'd left the horses and Jim grabbed the picnic lunch he'd made for them. The day had gotten hotter and they let the horses walk the short distance to a small clear lake they'd discovered.

She rode in between them admiring Black Jack's dance as he sashayed and side stepped beside her horse. Artie let her and Jim talk, knowing that for as much as he wanted to know everything about her, Jim did too. After all he was right when he said if Artie was her father, than he was her uncle. He added bits here and there as she questioned Jim about what it was like to be a Secret Service agent and various cases they'd worked on together. Jim kept his answers general even when she persisted for more details.

"It's called the Secret Service for a reason," he said pretending to lose patience with her. "If I told you everything it wouldn't be a _secret _would it."

"It's just very interesting," she said resigned to the fact she couldn't know as much as she wanted. "But will I still get to see your laboratory when we get back, Mr Gordon?"

"_DAD," _ the word plagued him, but he'd get used to it. "As long as I get you home before supper, we have all the time in the world." He smiled at her.

Jim noticed that she'd taken to glancing at Artie's bruised hand. Somewhere along the line, she must have noticed it. It really still needed to be bandaged but Artie had refused because he felt it would draw more attention to it. But with Joy riding on his left side, she had ample opportunity to study it more closely. He also noticed she studied him whenever he wasn't aware. Artie would point out some geological formation in a distant hill, completely caught up in the scientific significance of it, but instead of following his outstretched arm directing her to his point of fascination, she would take the opportunity to scrutinize him: his facial features, his shoulders, his arms, his fingers. All the while, Artie would prattle on about sand stone formations completely unaware that he was what fascinated her. Her interest in Artie though was not lost on Jim. He was willing to bet money on what was coming and he just hoped his partner was prepared for it.

They reached the lake quickly and they all sat for a moment enjoying the peace of the quiet water and the gentle sounds of life surrounding it. There was a clearing with some large rocks and an overhead canopy of trees to one side that made a perfect spot for lunch. Artemus announced that lunch was all Jim's doing so for all he knew they might be eating sticks and dirt, to which Jim held his hand to his chest as he pretended to be deeply hurt.

Jim and Joy lead the horses down to the lake for water while Artemus rummaged through the sack that Jim claimed to have lunch in. To his surprise, he found fried chicken that smelled… good, cold cooked corn on the cob with a small tin of honey, a canteen with lemonade, metal cups, napkins and even a small cloth to make a table setting. James my boy, you've been holding out on me he thought as he spread out the food on the largest of the rocks.

They all sat and hungrily ate with small talk about the lake, and the morning train ride.

"Mr Gordon, what happened to your hand?" the young woman asked as he poured her another cup of Jim's lemonade.

"Oh that?" he replied taking his seat again. "Well you see Jim was in this big fight with a whole room full of despicable types: gunslingers, rowdies, and a few really tough school girls. I walk in just as he's about to lose! So I just starting fighting them all, and what do you know but one of those nasty school girls hits me right in the fist with her books! Oh did that hurt!" He held it out for her to see. She was laughing but plainly knew it was a joke. He looked up to the blue sky as if giving up and said, "I shut the stable car door on my hand."

"Are you really the good fighter that Mr West said you were yesterday?"

With a self deprecating grin, he said, "No, that's actually Jim who's an expert fighter."

"I thought so," she said.

Artie turned on the actor and he pretended to be so wounded by her lack of confidence that he clutched his chest, and threw his eyes to heaven, while he fell to his knees on the soft grass whispering, "Et tu Brutae?"

"That was Latin wasn't it," she asked excitedly. "I've heard some of that at Uncle Amos's law practice. I tried to teach it to myself but I couldn't find the right book and dad said girls don't need that stuff."

Artemus brushed himself off. There it was again, _DAD_, but he continued on saying, "Yes it was Latin from Shakespeare's _Julius Caesar_, my second favorite of his plays."

Jim was quietly smiling enjoying the show, but he realized Artie was so in love he could go on showing off all day. He interjected, "So tell me Joy, you must have a young man who strikes your fancy. I just need to know so I can battle him off if you want me too of course." He sent a get-serious- look to Artie with his eyes.

Joy turned to face the other man. "If you're asking me Mr West if I have a suitor, the answer is no. There are some boys who I like and I know some of them like me, but I don't want to get married yet." Her words were plain and her tone was matter of fact. "Mom always said if a girl gets married then she's at her husband's whim. And if you have children, well then you really can't do anything you want. Don't misunderstand me, I like children and maybe I might get married to the right man of course, but I really do want to go to university and maybe become a doctor or a scientist and maybe a writer." She looked back at Artemus with anticipation in her eyes.

"Your mom… Amanda, said that in the letter she wrote me." All humor was gone from his voice and he spoke with sincerity. "She said you were a smart curious young woman and I can see that. I don't see any reason you shouldn't continue your education if that's what you want to do." He looked into the same eyes that were a mirror of his and knew he was hopelessly in love.

She smiled warmly. "Mr West, if I can be so bold as to ask you what you think of me going to college." Oh she is smart thought Jim. She obviously knows Artie and I share opinions, she might as well get any objections out in the open. "I think it's a fine idea, just watch out for all those young men on campus who might seek to woo you." Again he shot a knowing look to his partner as Joy reached down to fiddle with her boot.

"What's the matter with your foot?" Artie asked as he got up to gather the dishes.

"I think I've got a stone in my boot," she said trying to squirm her foot out.

"Here let me help." He bent down holding the heel as she pulled her foot out with an offending stone stuck to the bottom of her sock. He shook it out and as he bent down to help her get the boot back on, she gently brushed her hand through his hair.

He froze as he heard her say, "Your hair is the same as mine, all unmanageable curls. It's almost the same color too except yours is black and mine is just a little lighter, like a dark brown with auburn highlights. That's what mom used to call it."

He closed his eyes and just willed the breath to come back to him. "Is that so," he said casually, keeping his eyes focused on the ground.

He heard Jim speak. "Come on Joy you can help me wash these dishes and I'll let you ride with me if you want, if it's ok with Artemus."

_God bless you, Jim_, Artie whispered to himself.

Joy jumped up and walked down to the lake with Jim, excitedly asking about the black horse. Artie let himself slip down to the grass feeling like he'd just been shot in the gut. Her curiosity was strong and she put things together fast, and she missed nothing. He looked at his bruised hand, wondering if she'd been so keen to notice the direction the boards in the parlor car were shattered in, as well as the size of the hole which didn't match Jim's story of a wayward couch.

If the old Judge found out that she knew the truth, regardless if he told her or not, the old man could make life real tough for them both. Just the thought of it made him shudder involuntarily. He willed the idea out of his mind as he went to retrieve his horse.

They rode back to the train, with Joy and Jim riding Black Jack and Artie leading Amanda's mare. The black horse danced and strutted and Jim allowed it to break into a conservative lope but nothing faster. Artie watched as he rode beside them thinking if that girl falls off that beast, I'm going to kill you, Jim. She was thrilled partly because she was riding the black horse, but mostly, he suspected, because she was riding with Jim.

Time was starting to get short when they arrived back at the train so Artie didn't have the opportunity to let her explore his laboratory completly. Her questions were unending about the chemicals, compounds, did he incorporate the scientific method in his experiments, and had he heard of Charles Darwin. The day was rapidly drawing to a close and he needed to get her back to the Judge's house by six.

He really didn't want to ruin such a wonderful day with another dose of the Judge over dinner so Jim suggested he offer to take the two ladies to lunch tomorrow thus satisfying Mrs Wilson desire to meet him as well as spending more time with Joy. It was apparent that Jim was including himself in the plan which was ok with him as he saw the benefit. Jim was unparalleled, except by himself he liked to think, in charming the ladies.

He made the excuse of Secret Service business they needed to attend to, and Mrs Wilson was more than pleased to accept his lunch offer. It gave the Judge one more opportunity to scowl which Mrs Wilson ignored once again.

As they rode to a tavern at the edge of town recommended for good food, he could see Jim smiling contentedly. It had been a marvelous day. And yet the worry that had marked his ride into town this morning tickled his consciousness again: What would he do about Jim.

WWWWW

_Author note: To all you of you who speak French, I don't. The translations used in this chapter are directly from Word. Please excuse the errors if they aren't correct and please let me know what the proper translation is if you know it. Thanks for your understanding._


	7. Chapter 7

CHAPTER SEVEN

They walked up to the bar of the small but clean little establishment while they waited for a table to free up. The food must be good Artie surmised as the place was full with young couples, a few families and respectable looking cowhands. It was a nice change from the usual variety of saloons they'd seen over the years populated by tough men looking for trouble.

They each ordered a beer and enjoyed the lukewarm sudsy brew in quiet. Joy had used up about all the talking and listening they had for one day. "That's one heck of a girl, you have there. My ears are still ringing from all her questions, but she is really something. You should be proud."

"Well I guess I would be if I had anything to do with it other than a brief part quite a number of years ago." At least this time he said it with a smile, Jim noted. Maybe he'd stopped beating up on himself so much.

He decided this was the moment he'd been waiting for. "I don't know Artie, but maybe you should think about taking a desk job. It would put you out of dangers way. I bet Richmond would love the help." He didn't look at his partner right away. He figured it would be better to let the idea sink in for a minute before he got his expected response. He turned slowly from the bar leaning his back against the polished wood. If Artie was out of the field and direct involvement in cases, then the danger of Joy being used as a pawn would be reduced. It turned his stomach, the thought she could ever be used as leverage against either of them. Plus being in one location instead of constant travel, would make him more available to her.

The down side was of course their partnership would be broken. He preferred not to think about that because he knew he'd be lying when he said to Artie, _Don't worry I'll do great with a new partner. You know you aren't perfect. _But of course they were perfect together, each one able to anticipate the others next moves with an almost inborn sense of the other's strengths and weaknesses. But Joy's safety, _my niece_, the word echoed in his head, and Artie were far more important than his own welfare.

Artie studied his beer for a moment before he spoke. "We'll it's a thought I had too, but what would you do?" He tried to sound casual. He didn't want Jim to think he was acting like a mother hen.

"We'll, I could do anything I suppose." Now it was Jim's turn to sound nonchalant. "I could work with another partner, of course it would take awhile to break a new one in, or maybe I could do something else in the department... like design security for the mints. Gosh knows they get into enough trouble."

Artie nodded his head as if Jim's last idea had merit, but he knew it would never last as James West would get way too bored with drawings, diagrams and writing protocol. "Do you think you'd get bored?"

"Oh no, it would be fun not to get shot at, beaten up and abused by the usual types we run into." He smiled his broadest grin knowing Artie saw right through it.

"Yah," his partner replied with an equally false grin.

A table opened up at that moment. The two men ordered another round and sat down to a satisfying and awkwardly silent meal.

WWWWW

That night Artemus had a dream.

He was sitting at his family's kitchen table, his mother was clearing the dishes. His younger brother, Theodore was there as well as his baby sister Litta. His parents looked like they were when he was a boy of twelve, but he was the same aged adult he was now, as a matter of fact he was older than his parents. But no one seemed to notice and the usual language drills his father conducted every night after dinner were in full swing. Litta was reciting the Lord's Prayer in Russian, while Theo worked on his essay in French. His father sat attentively, arms crossed coaching little Litta in pronunciation while the Brooklyn street sounds seeped in through the open windows. Mother turned and smiled lovingly at him with all the pride one woman could hold. He wanted to reach out to her and hug her short but sturdy frame. She turned back to the sink and he remembered how he loved to watch Litta take her mother's hair down at night from the tight bun she wore and brush it one hundred times, counting alternately in French and Spanish each stroke.

Father nodded in encouragement as Theo worked through an especially difficult passage, his tight black curls staying locked in position as he waved his hands like an orchestra conductor in tempo with his son's oration. Lamb's wool is what his mother called father's thick mane and she frequently told him how lucky he was not to have curls as dense and stubborn as his father's.

He wanted to speak, but he had no voice. He reached out to touch his father, who glanced over at him and with sad eyes said, "You will need to be the father of this family some day, Artemus. It's a heavy responsibility but I have faith in you my son. You are the smartest, and bravest." Then he turned back to coaching Litta and the scene vanished.

He was standing at a grave, his heart so heavily with grief it hurt. The air was cold and damp and he would have shivered if he hadn't been so numb. His mother, a short pillar dressed in black, leaned on him and he wrapped his arm around her shoulder as she sobbed uncontrollably. It was Theodore in the box, dead from consumption. He was so young, so handsome, so charming. Why hadn't it been him? Mother said it was not their job to question God's will, but it meant that her eldest, Artemus, would have to live up to the most honorable standards as he had to fill the shoes of both her sons now. She told him the good Lord knew he could call Theo back to his fold because her eldest would achieve so much and help so many in his life that he would do the good of two men.

He was relieved but at the same time ashamed that he didn't have to bear the grief of his father who had died two years prior and would now have his youngest son forever as a companion in death. He was the father of the family as his own father predicted and pretty little Litta nestled into his side as she hung onto his jacket for protection from the pain, and confusion that death brings. He started to cry.

The scene changed again and this time there were flowers and smiles and happy faces as he watched Litta, a grown woman, walk towards him in her wedding dress like a vision of an angel. He escorted her proudly down the aisle and a tall dark handsome man waited for her and her love which she freely gave. He glanced behind him and there sat his mother still in her kitchen dress, holding Theo's French book on her lap, and a pot of stew she stirred with one hand as with her other hand, she dabbed her eyes tearing with joy. The church was a sea of faces some from long ago memories but many from more recent encounters. Antoinette sat next to what seemed to be an empty seat and he strained his neck to see if Loveless was with her. His heart started to race as he realized that if the little man was there, he would attempt to ruin this happy day or even worse, take his sister hostage. In the back row he saw what looked like an army of the nameless henchmen he'd run into over the years who were always ready for a fight. But today they looked oddly content and sat quietly enjoying the procession.

Jim was sitting up front, smiling and he wanted to warn him about Loveless but he found his hands were securely tied together and his voice refused to cooperate. Two boxes stood at the back of the room ominously and he watched them wondering what or who might be in them but they never opened.

Then he was back in the kitchen, but his mother seemed to fade away slowly still with the same loving smile on her face. There was a far off train whistle. She spoke but her voice was like a fog coming from all directions. In Russian she said, "It's all up to you now Artemus, my son. You must take care of your family, and all whom you come to love, but you are strong and loyal. And always be honorable to your family's name." And she was gone.

He opened his eyes still groggy from sleep and looked about the small room.

Was he in New York? A dim light filtered through the window, and he held up his hand to see if he was still the man he was yesterday or if somehow he'd been changed to a boy overnight. He looked at his bruised hand, now black in dim light and knew he was the same man he had been.

He let the slow heart beat of the locomotive, as it pulsed steam through its boiler, bring him out of the dream's possession and into the reality of the new day.

WWW

_Authors note: I'm going to be traveling over the next week. I'm hoping to post while away but if you don't hear from me, it's not because I forgot or abandoned the story, just lack of connection or time. So wish me fair winds and strong signal strenth._

_As always, thanks for reading._

_Diddlepie_


	8. Chapter 8

CHAPTER EIGHT

_Author note: I realize according to the WWW series in "TNO The Skulls", both Jim West and Artemus Gordon are said to have been only children. This bit of information was never repeated in any other episode and as we know, neither character was given much of a back story in the series. Personally I decided that it would be unlikely that they were both only children and I've treated that story line as Secret Service misinformation used to keep the agents' families safe. Like many other writers, I've given both characters family: JW's back story borrowed from another writer's ( California Gal ) story, and AG's, to the best of my knowledge, is my own. _

They rode together into town. Artemus had been quiet all morning and Jim was trying to give him space but he was curious and a little anxious to know just what was going on. Last week had been an avalanche of new information and the last few days a carnival of events. He suddenly realized he had an ace in the hole to draw his partner out. "Heh Artie, did you see you got a letter from your sister Litta?"

"What? I got a letter from Litta?" he asked with startled urgency. "Why didn't you tell me?" It was out of character for Artie to be so alarmed about a letter from his sister.

"I'm sorry, Artie, I forgot to tell you, with all the excitement this week, it just slipped my mind. Plus it smells good like all her other letters so I knew it wasn't anything bad, just the usual stuff : what it's like to live in Paris and when are you coming because she has the most beautiful woman you've ever imagined lined up and ready to marry you." A broad grin spread across his face as mischief danced in his eyes.

"Jim, you know any letter from Litta I want to see immediately! What if she's sick or ill?" he protested.

"If your sister is sick, Artie, it's from drinking too much fine wine and dancing at those fancy balls she's always talking about. How your sister from the slums of New York ever married a fancy French art dealer, I'll never figure out."

"Yah, well trying hanging out in art museums and reading a book every now and then, and while you're at it, become fluent in four or five languages and you too can find yourself a genuine Parisian art dealer."

A hint of teasing had worked its way into his partner's voice and Jim felt a glimmer of hope. Maybe Artie was just tired.

"I have the letter on the train. It came the morning you went to see the Judge. Sorry, Artie. I should have remembered it."

"Does it have the usual lipstick kiss on the envelope marked just for you?" Artie said his mood now transforming from alarm to mild disgust.

"Now that you mention it, yes it does," Jim replied with a wide grin.

"Yup, she's fine. I'll read it tonight." But Artie's mood had turned somber again. There was something big on Artie's mind, something even more distracting than the events of the last week, but it looked like he was just going to have to wait until his partner was ready to talk.

They reached the Judge's house right on time, and Jim was pleased to see both women were ready. Must be the result of living with that cranky old man he reasoned. Mrs Wilson chose a restaurant not too far down the road and as the day was dry and sunny she suggested walking instead of using the carriage. Joy was bubbling to have another day with these two exciting, handsome and interesting men. She had been full of dinnertime chatter about all they'd done, leaving out the part about galloping horses. The Judge was resentfully interested but Mrs Wilson was all ears. She was looking forward to spending some time with Mr Gordon and his partner and had chosen this restaurant as it would allow them even more time together if they walked.

The two agents were dressed smartly, Jim in a chocolate brown waist jacket, a favorite style of his, with matching pants and a silk ascot, and Artemus in a light blue tail coat and pants, and white shirt. He extended his elbow with a tip of his hat to the elder woman and she graciously took his arm. Mrs Wilson was the woman he needed to win over today and he was well armed with a full dose of charm, witty conversation, and honest sincerity. He knew Joy would not be offended as she had developed an eye for Jim and would not mind one bit being seen on the arm of his handsome partner.

Joy was full of excited chatter and Jim was patiently listening. She had come alive over the last few days as he compared her to their meeting in the Judge's office. There she was hesitant and shy, now she was barely contained but the one thing that was consistent was her constant desire to know more. Her dark hair bounced as she eagerly strode alongside his partner_. _He and Mrs Wilson walked at a more stately pace, and he got the distant feeling by the smiles she gave the passersby, that she too was enjoying being on the arm of a dapper looking fellow.

"So Mr Gordon, I guess I am being redundant when I say how much Joy is enjoying your visit."

"Not at all, Mrs Wilson. To be honest I think I'm enjoying it more though. She is quite a girl. And I can't thank you and Judge Wilson for all you have done for her and Amanda." He smiled at the older woman and patted her hand affectionately.

"She never stopped loving you," the woman replied. Artie was a bit taken back by her bluntness, but then he'd rather have everything out in the open, and the fact that this lady was wasting no time was ok with him.

He looked at her and she could see the sincerity in his eyes as he spoke, "I only wish I had known. Until the day I die, it is the biggest regret I'll bear."

"Please call me Betty." She continued pleasantly. "Even strong men are weak when it comes to love and a willing female body, Mr Gordon." She glanced up at him with a knowing look. He managed to hide his surprise at her persistent frankness and simply gave a quick nod of acknowledgement, keeping his eyes forward. After a few more greetings to passersby, she continued on in the same casual friendly tone. "I told her she needed to tell you. It was only fair that you know and give you the opportunity to do the right thing… which I know you would have. But she insisted that it was her mistake, and she had to live with it and she wouldn't burden you with a mundane existence when you sought and were capable of so much more." Her clear grey eyes met his and he blinked a tear away.

"Amos was able to arrange for the false adoption papers and our little girl was born. Do you know why Amanda chose the name of Joy for the baby?"

He shook his head no. This walk was turning out to be not quite what he had thought.

"She said this new life was like having you with her every day except you never had to give up your dreams. Your baby would be her Joy."

Artemus focused on the man and young woman walking ahead of them and took deep breaths, struggling to control himself.

Mrs Wilson continued as they strolled along, "Amanda and Joy lived with us for the first two years. It was probably the happiest of our lives, although my husband may not admit to it. There was such life in the house, and you could see how intelligent Joy was even then. She picked up on everything so quick. Amanda always said she had your brains, not that Amanda was a dim wit by any stretch of the imagination." She waved and stopped for a quick word with an obvious close friend. Artemus tipped his hat to the new lady, and no one would ever have suspected the depth of the conversation they were involved in.

They began to walk again and the older woman picked up just where she'd left off. "When Howard came into her life, it was a new beginning and a chance to start her own household. He loved her and I think Amanda eventually grew fond of him although I don't believe she ever truly loved Howard. He took to little Joy like she was his own and although they both wanted more children, the good Lord never gave them any. I think Howard was disappointed but he never faulted Amanda. I also don't think he ever suspected for all those years they were together that she was deeply in love with another man. I guess my niece was perhaps a good actress in her right, wouldn't you say, Mr Gordon?"

He kept his gaze ahead, but his eyes were soft. "Please Betty, call me Artemus." He patted her delicate hand still wrapped in his elbow. "Yes, I guess she was an excellent actress." He blinked back the lingering wetness in his eyes and they walked silently for a minute still smiling at the lady's numerous neighbors and friends as they passed.

"Is that why she always refused my invitations to visit when I came through town?" He looked at her now but she continued looking straight ahead.

"I do believe that is correct. She confided in me sometimes but mostly kept her thoughts to herself. Whenever there was news of you and Mr West she was voraciously hungry for every tidbit of information and she would excitedly tell the story to Joy and sometimes Howard. But I always knew how she felt. Women know these things." She looked at him and then shifted her eyes to the young woman and handsome man in front of them. "It appears my grand niece is quite taken with your friend."

"Oh yes," Artie replied with a smile, "most women are."

"So, Artemus, this leads me to my question for you." She stopped him, withdrawing her arm and turning to face him. There were no other people near them when she spoke. "Do you feel you are prepared and ready to be not only her guardian, but as time progresses her father too?" She looked intently at him ignoring all the activity around them as if they were the only people alive for a hundred miles.

Artemus smiled and waved Jim on as he saw them stop looking puzzled as to why he and Mrs Wilson had stopped walking. He didn't want to alarm Joy and knew Jim would handle her curiosity fittingly. He looked back to the older woman, his expression attentive and serious. "I will leave the Secret Service if I need to for Joy. I don't know what other guarantees I can make Betty. I don't know how to be her father but I will learn." He hastily added, "Of course I won't tell her of our blood relation as I agree with your husband that it would be devastating to her."

She smiled at him with a sly look and took his elbow again as they began to walk. She said, "… or would it? Your daughter, my grand niece, is a remarkably resilient young woman." She patted his arm and smiled affectionately.

They continued walking, but she slowed their pace to a meander. "And what about Mr West? I understand you two are a very successful duo and highly valued by President Grant himself." She looked up at him with her pale grey eyes and he thought for as blustery as her husband was, this was a woman you would never want to have on the wrong side. She could see through to a person's soul if she desired.

It was his turn to stop, and he turned to face her. "Betty, you are an intuitive woman," he said. "James West is the best federal agent in the country, and my best friend. We work well… very well together. I'll admit it's a dilemma for me." He gave a half hearted grin.

"Yes, I'm sure it is," she said confidently. "Come Artemus, let's catch up to Mr West and Joy. We don't want our little girl to get worried that we're planning something behind her back." She smiled pleasantly and took his arm as they continued to the restaurant.

They sat down to eat at one of the better restaurants the small city had to offer. Mrs Wilson was obviously well known and liked as they continued to garner greetings from many of the customers, while the two agents collected as many quick glances and whispers. At least they all look friendly, Jim thought as he placed his napkin on his lap. He had a funny picture flash through his mind of he and Artie getting caught in one of their way too frequent bar fights right here with Mrs Wilson and Joy as witnesses. On second thought, he decided it actually wasn't such a funny picture.

The next few minutes were filled with idle chatter about the food, and the proprietors until an attractive blond young woman came and took their order. She paid the customary amount of time fawning over Jim, and returned a few moments later with coffee. Once she had left, Mrs Wilson turned to Jim and said, "So Mr West, I enjoyed my stroll over here with Artemus, but I feel I don't know you at all. Please tell me about your family. Do you have any relatives nearby? Oh, and do call me Betty, please."

Her eyes were clear as a mountain stream and full of intelligence, even though her skin had past its peak many years ago. Her grey hair sat in a neat bun at the nap of her neck, with a fashionable small hat perched on top giving her tiny frame just a few more inches in height. At first glance one could easily assume her to just be some aged house wife. But once she began speaking it was clear she was no average woman. She looked at him intently and patiently awaited his answer.

"Well Betty, and please call me Jim, there isn't really much to tell." He shot a quick glance over to his partner. "I am from Ohio, a little town you've probably never heard of. My father and mother had a small farm. My mom died when I was fairly young, so that just left me, my older brother, and dad on the farm. My dad passed away a few years ago, and my brother is out west somewhere, but to be honest, we've lost touch. You know how men can be if they don't have women to keep the family together." He flashed one of his most charming smiles. "When the war started I joined, and ended up doing a lot of scouting work for General Grant and with the end of the war, the General, by then president, asked if I'd like to come work in a new agency he was legislating and I agreed." He finished with a broad grin and took one of the warm biscuits that had just arrived, taking a large bite. The older woman nodded agreeably, but he could see in her eyes his lack of detail had provided her with all the information she desired.

She took a sip of water and turned her attention to Artemus. "Now you'll think me amiss, as we spent all that time having a pleasant walk here and I never asked you about your family, and how you learned so many languages." She gave a slight shake of the head to emphasize her amazement as she exchanged glances with her grand niece.

"Well really it's not very exciting. My parents immigrated from the old country to New York. My father was a teacher, so multiple languages were just a part of the house." He took a quick sip of coffee. "My mother was a wonderful woman, took care of us all without a compliant… well not too many. I am the oldest, then my brother Theodore and finally my little sister Litta."

"Oh, how nice, Artemus, that you have family, and are your parents still living?"

"No, God rest their souls. Papa passed away many years ago when I was twelve and my mom a few years later. I think my brother's death hastened mother's passing. He was only nine when he died from the tuberculosis outbreak. It was especially bad in the city." He could see Joy looking at him with sorrow. Funny, he thought, I've spent so much time learning about her, she really doesn't know much about me.

"And your sister?" The woman's voice brought him out of his muse.

"Litta? Oh she's terrific. She's a beautiful woman now and lives in Paris with her husband who is an art dealer. We write regularly. As a matter of fact I have a recent letter from her that I haven't even opened yet."

Joy's eyes were as wide as saucers. "You have a sister who lives in Paris? Have you been there? Is it as beautiful as they say?"

"Yes, to all," he chuckled.

"Oh, Aunt Betty, can you imagine, Paris?!"

"You've certainly caught this young lady's interest, Artemus." Her eyes glittered with a passion that her aged body could no longer reflect, but was clearly still there.

Their meals arrived and conversation switched to potential colleges Joy might attend. "There are more institutions that recognize that women are just as intelligent as men and can make significant contributions to our country." Mrs Wilson made it quite clear where she stood on the controversial topic of women's rights, and she also made it clear that she would not be taking any prisoners should you disagree.

The meal ended amiably with discussion of all the planning that would be needed to find the proper college. There were letters to write, recommendations to request, and campus visits to be made, all of which would take time. Betty agreed to spend her time working on the nuts and bolts and she would stay in touch with Artemus via letter and telegram.

Over the last few days new leads had opened up in the counterfeiting case that had brought Jim to Indianapolis with Artie in the first place. As they walked the two women back to their home, Joy continued her animated conversation with James. Artemus couldn't imagine what they were talking about but Jim was acting out some scene which had Joy both amused and terrified at the same time. He chuckled at the interaction as James West was not considered by many to be a comedian but there he was in full swing as _Uncle Jim_, he thought to himself.

"Your friend seems to enjoy our Joy as much as we do, doesn't he, Artemus?"

"I think you are correct about that, Betty," Artemus replied sharing a smile with the older woman.

"It's good to see her smile and laugh. She's been so sad since her mother died, so alone. There have been times when I've been very worried about her." She reached over and patted his arm warmly. "I think she'll be alright now."

Artemus looked over at the woman, not quite sure what she meant, but she had hailed a friend by then and the moment was lost as she chatted intently with the new comer.

They had reached the Judge's house, and knowing that his time with Joy was coming to an end, at least for now, he suggested they plan tomorrow afternoon together. It would be Joy's choice for what they would do.

The two men excused themselves and Artie walked with Jim to the livery where he picked up his horse. Jim was going to ride down to Columbus where he had started out and Artie would stay in Indianapolis to check the banks and land title office.

"So what do you think of Betty?" Jim asked.

"You know if I had to make a choice, I think I'd rather deal with the Judge any day over his wife. She's a nice lady, don't get me wrong, but did you get the feeling that she could see right through you?"

"Yup, I sure did. I'm glad she's on your side, partner." He gave Artie a slap on the shoulder, mounted up and took off with the black horse barely managing to keep to a trot.

That horse is a darn rocket ship, Artie thought to himself as he shook his head smiling and began the walk to the land title office to check recent land purchases. Anyone who had purchased a lot of land recently would be mighty interesting to him considering it was a good cover-up for phony money.

He and Jim had agreed to meet back at the train in two days. It was unlikely Artemus would have much more time this trip in Indianapolis as Colonial Richmond was becoming anxious to get his two best agents back on more important cases.

Artie knew he had a lot of hard thinking to do in the meantime.


	9. Chapter 9

CHAPTER NINE

Artie spent the next morning at the bank and felt like he might be getting close to a solid lead on the counterfeiting case. After a quick lunch he met Joy and was not surprised when he saw Lady saddled and waiting outside the Wilson home. She came out promptly wearing her split riding skirt and hat that he had purchased for her. Since he was in work mode now, he wore his suede jacket with fringe on the sleeves. Joy told him it was her favorite jacket, and that he looked like a real law man when he wore it.

"Where we off to young lady?" he said as she swung up on the bay mare.

"You'll see," she said. Her expression was somber, although she didn't seem upset, just more reflective than he'd seen her since they'd first meet at the court house. The sky was beginning to cloud up, probable rain later he thought as they rode together along the outskirts of the small city, following a path that took them behind the main streets and buildings. She was quiet and he didn't pry as he knew the last week had been as intense for her as it had been for him.

They were inconspicuous as they travelled, passing only a few other riders and delivery wagons. They finally arrived along the back entrance of a church yard, its central building being a pretty stone and wood structure with a modest steeple. No one else was around as they tied their horses to a large old chestnut tree at the border of the property.

Artie was not surprised she had chosen this as their destination. Betty had even suggested to him yesterday that he should make time to visit Amanda. He knew he needed to come, to see Amanda and pay his final respect.

He followed her silently deeper into the grave yard. The low passing clouds cast moving shadows across the scene as they periodically blocked the sun's warming light causing the air to feel unexpectedly chilly as they passed. She walked further still and he was surprised that for such a small town, they certainly had produced a lot of dead people.

Finally she stopped next to a small rectangular headstone which stood as a twin to the one beside it. She walked around to the other side which carried the inscription, her face solemn and poignant. He slowly walked up beside her, removing his hat out of respect as he read the inscription:

_Amanda Leslie_

_Loving wife of Howard Leslie_

_1841- 1877. _

The matching stone to the right was that of Amanda's husband, Howard Leslie. Artemus noticed there was an empty space to the left of Amanda and for one brief moment, he imagined his final resting place there, beside her forever.

He quickly jostled himself out of such a thought. He looked over and saw Joy looking up at him intently, the way she frequently looked at him when she was thinking. "Mom picked out the stone for Howard so I thought she'd like a matching stone."

"It's very nice," he said softly as he rubbed his hand across the smooth top. He realized as he stood in front her grave he'd never let himself feel the grief of her death. This was a woman he loved. They had a created a child together and he would have gladly lived a mundane life of fatherhood, family and love in her arms if the hands of time would only run backwards. They would have had many children together and he would have taught them the beautiful languages of the world. He ran his fingers slowly across the carved letters of her name feeling her lips, her gentle caress on his skin, a kiss. And in as many days he could feel a tear threatening to escape. He roughly wiped the back of his hand across his eyes.

"You really liked Mom, didn't you Mr Gordon?" She'd moved a step or two behind him, he figured embarrassed by his expression of emotion. Her voice was low but confident.

"Yes I did. Amanda, your mom as you call her, was a very smart and loyal friend. I will miss her a lot." A wayward tear found its escape and trailed down his cheek. He looked to the sky and said a silent prayer for her forgiveness.

The church yard was quiet with the only sound being the distant noise of the main street and a few twittering birds as they fluttered through the silent space.

"I call Amanda my mother because she was just like one to me, although she, Aunt Betty and Uncle Amos tell me my real parents were killed in a fire in Denver. I don't even have a picture of them. I wish I did." She sounded sad, but he couldn't turn to look at her.

She continued, "I sometimes think Amanda was my real mother and that the story of a fire in Denver and my parents dying was made up so I wouldn't know I didn't have a father." Her voice had become softer now and more hesitant. She paused for a long minute. "Of course I would have to have a father because a baby can't be born without a father."

He stared at the sky to keep the tears that were threatening to flood his face from overflowing. He could feel her eyes on his back, begging for answers. He slowly turned to face her, letting the tears spill down his cheeks. She searched his face not with fear but the desire for something else: truth.

He realized he clutched the brim of his hat so tight he was sure his knuckles were white, but he could not control it. He looked at her through a veil of his own silent tears, and turned his gaze to the ground as he heard her again, this time her voice was a whisper.

"Mr Gordon? Was Amanda really my mother?"

He squeezed his eyes closed as memories began to wash over him and they were all that his brain could tolerate. He replied with a small nod. He knew what was coming next.

There was a long pause. "Mr Gordon…?" Her voice was barely audible and she waited for his permission to continue. He knew he could stop it all now by changing the subject, walking away, or not responding to her plea. But he couldn't stop himself from saying the next words. He owed her, he owed Amanda, and it was time for this deception, this falsehood born out of misplaced loyalty to end. And with his head bent in prayer and his eyes still closed to prevent any other distraction from disturbing the anguish he felt at that moment, he whispered haltingly, "Yes,… Joy?"

"Are you my father?"

Whatever control he had was blasted from his conscious as he let the tears roll silently and a single sob of relief, of guilt, and for a lie that never should have been, escaped his lips.

He heard the rustle of dead leaves and dirt and realized that she was running away. He dropped his hat and took off after her, racing through the obstacle course of headstones and scrawny rose bushes, catching her quickly by the arm and pulling her to a stop.

She was crying, saying over and over again, "I'm sorry, I'm so sorry, I never should have said that. Mother always told me I'd get into trouble with my questions. I'm so sorry!" She covered her face with her hands and continued to weep uncontrollably. "I don't care who you are. You don't have to tell me anything, but please just don't leave." He pulled her close, squeezing her tight, his own tears falling on her dark curls.

"Shush now….it's alright. Everything is alright." His words were like a mantra of calm, peace and healing. "I am your real father and Amanda was your real mother." His words came out as the whisper of a prayer. "I'm the one who should be sorry, and I am for all the pain I caused your mother and you. I loved your mother and she loved me. Things happened that shouldn't have, but you have to believe me that I never knew about you; I just never knew."

He rocked her in his arms as he continued to hold her close feeling the sobs as they shook her body. He held his lips to her hair and whispered the soothing sounds that a parent does to comfort a child.

" You're my daughter, my daughter I never knew I had and I love you." His voice was a whisper as he was overcome with a flash flood of emotion that had been building every since he'd received Amanda's letter a week ago. Slowly she slid her hands down from her face and wrapped them around his waist and held him in a vice like grip.

From buried in his chest, he heard her whisper, "Do you hate me?"

"No, No! How could I hate you for something you had no part of ? Nothing is your fault. Nothing!"

"But you're crying. Why are you crying? Is it because you're stuck with me and you don't want to be?" Her words came out as muffled sobs as she pressed her face into his chest. His heart skipped as her pain drove its way into his soul.

"Oh, no. Never. You're my Joy now." He smiled and slipped a finger under her chin and lifted it to see her red swollen eyes. "I love you," he whispered, and he pulled her into a tight embrace again. He could feel her begin to relax and fold into him as she slowly got her breathing under control. They stood embracing for long minutes as they both reconciled themselves to the truth.

"Here take this." He handed her his handkerchief and led her over to a bench under the cover of a large copper beech tree.

"How long have you known?" He asked as she wiped her eyes and cleared her nose.

"I never knew for sure, but I always knew mom loved you more than Howard. Not that she didn't love him or least like him, but whenever she talked about you her eyes would light up. She would be so proud anytime she heard news about you and Mr West. And then when I met you, I could see I looked more like you than anyone else. And some of your mannerisms and the way Uncle Amos hates you so much…"

"Oh yes, that we'll have to talk about, but not right now." He took her hands in his. "So I need to ask you something." He looked her straight in her blood shot eyes as he spoke. "Do you hate me? Be honest it's ok if you do."

"No," she said considering her words carefully. "I can't hate you for what you never knew about."

"Well yes, there's that part, but then of course what I did to your mother."

"But if Mom was willing, and you didn't force her, isn't it both your faults?" she asked her face full of her unrelenting curiosity.

He looked at her blankly. Even at a time like this, he thought, her mind defaults to a scientific analysis of the question. He turned his head not quite ready for that discussion yet. "Let's talk about that later," he replied.

She searched his face, ready for the truth. He began slowly, "Our last summer of college together your mother and I were very much in love, and our passions ran high. We did things we shouldn't have done and your mother became pregnant by me." He paused waiting for any change in her reaction but she continued with her full attention on him. "I was planning on asking her to marry me except I wanted to buy her a ring but I didn't have the money. When I finally bought a ring, I asked her to be my bride and she said no. I was broken hearted, confused, and angry. I asked her why, why she wouldn't marry me and she told me she had her reasons."

He cleared his throat and took a deep breath before continuing. "I left school shortly after that and I didn't see her or talk to her for years afterwards. I went into the theater and then the war happened. I didn't think about much then, other than trying to stay alive and get a job done. When peace was finally declared and General Grant was elected president, I joined the Secret Service. One day when we were going through Indianapolis I got a letter from her telling me all about her life and her adopted daughter. You were maybe six or eight years old at the time."

He stood up and continued talking, the memories pushing him to action. He paced slowly in front of her. "I asked her and Howard to join me for dinner, but she said they couldn't at the time, but to please stay in touch and write as often as I could. By that time I had gotten over the hurt and so I would drop her a letter whenever I could and she always wrote back immediately so excited to tell me about you and how smart and inquisitive you were. We came through here a few more times on the train and I'd always invite her and Howard for lunch or dinner or just tea but she always had an excuse." He ran his hand through his hair as he frequently did whenever he was puzzled or frustrated. "It wasn't until her last letter that I finally knew why."

"So would you have married mom if you knew about me?"

"Yes, of course. I loved your mother."

"And then I probably would have had brothers and sisters and learned other languages." She looked at him but very much deep in thought. "But then you would have never meet James West and become a Secret Service agent and done all the wonderful things you have."

"Probably not," he answered.

"You'd probably just be a boring dad."

"Well, I hope not," he said with a surprised grimace.

"And if you hadn't met James West then maybe he wouldn't be such a good agent or maybe he'd even be dead because no one would be there to watch out for him like Uncle Amos says you two watch each other's back."

"Cascade effect." He said. "It's called the cascade effect." She looked at him puzzled. "It's when one small change that can seem insignificant at the time results in major changes down the road."

"But why wouldn't she want you to know?"

"Well, that gets more complicated, but what I can tell you is people do a lot of strange things for love." He moved back to the bench and once again took her hands in his. He met her brown eyes with his. "But what you need to know now is very important. You must not hate your mother for her decision to keep you from me. When you're older you'll understand yourself what love can do to a person. Do you understand?"

"Yes, I understand but it makes me think I never want to fall in love."

He grinned, "Well that's an interesting thesis."

"I have one more question…Father." She tried the word out like she was learning pronunciation of a new language. "Is all this why Uncle Amos hates you?"

"Oh yes," he said nervously. "We will have to be very careful around Uncle Amos because he'll skin me alive if he finds out you know I'm your father. And it won't matter that you figured it out on your own!"

"So that means your sister Litta is my Aunt Litta, doesn't it?"

Artie had to grin broadly at that. He could already see the wheels turning in her head. What a letter this would be when he wrote to Litta. He bet he'd hear her screech all the way across the Atlantic!

"Yes, you have an Aunt Litta who lives in Paris and who will think you are the most precious thing she's ever seen in her life. And it also means you have an Uncle Jean Pierre, Litta's very French husband, and an Uncle Jim, because even though James West is not really my brother, he's like a brother to me.

She smiled at him and his heart felt lighter than air. "I'll like that."

"Do you have any other questions for me?" Artie asked feeling better than he had in weeks.

"So, are you going to quit your job and stay here?" She looked up at him through wide and trusting eyes.

"What do you want me to do?" he asked solemnly.

"I don't know. I mean I want you to stay with me, but you have an important job that you're really good at, and if I'm going away to school, then I wouldn't see you that much anyway…"

He pulled her close and hugged her with a feeling of warmth he'd only experienced a few times in his life. "We'll figure it out. Let's not try to solve everything today."

"Ok," she agreed and her smile melted his heart.

He took her hand and they walked back slowly to Amanda's headstone. He picked up his hat and stood there for a minute, his head bowed and once again prayed for her forgiveness and to watch over and protect their daughter. He thanked her for giving him such a gift and placed a single kiss with his hand on her headstone.

Joy stood respectfully in the background. He turned and extended his hand to her and she gladly took it, interlacing her fingers in his, as they stood together before the stone monument marking the final resting place of a loving woman and mother, and a sixteen year old lie.

WWWWWW

_Author note: Just in case you are wondering, this is NOT the end of the story. Poor Artie still needs to decide between his devoation to Jim and the Secret Service, and his new responsibility and to Joy. Stay tuned and as always thanks for reading!_


	10. Chapter 10

CHAPTER TEN

He rode back to the train as evening fell. A light rain accompanied him, but he didn't mind. The coolness felt good on his face, refreshing, gentle and cleansing. He had thought about staying in town for dinner since Jim was away but decided a simple meal and a good brandy was what he needed tonight. And then there was the letter from his sister Litta he still hadn't read. Yes, she would be his company tonight.

The trip went by quickly lost in thought as images from the church yard played over in his head, and yet he felt relieved, relaxed even. He still didn't know what or how he would work out his concerns for the welfare of his daughter, Jim, and the Secret Service, but at least one thing was settled: he was Joy's father. But only the most trusted people would ever know it.

He grinned when he thought of Jim's face when he told him the news. Of course Jim would get an "I-told-you-so" face and indeed Jim had warned him that the girl was going to figure it out. At the time he scoffed it off as James West just being his usual overconfident self. He should have known better. He'd toast with Jim in absentia to night, and tomorrow in the flesh and blood.

The rain had just started to come down heavier when he arrived at the train. He dried off his horse who thoroughly enjoyed the rub down and moved into the galley where he put together a plate of cold meat, some fruit and a few pieces of cheese left over from their picnic. He changed into dry clothes and rummaged for the fine bottle of brandy President Grant had brought with him on his last visit and poured a glass.

Litta's letter was just where James had said it would be, waiting patiently on top of the credenza. He sat on the couch, with the fireplace's warmth spreading over his outstretched legs and opened it. As always it was written in French with bold and curvaceous script; Litta's unmistakable hand.

_My Dearest Brother Artemus,_

_You must come to Paris immediately! Ange'le will not live beyond the week if you do not come and rescue her heart, pining for your touch, your kiss, your love! Even though you have never met, I know she is the woman for you. You must leave without delay as she wishes only to make you happy in all ways that only French women know how!_

_Why do you persist in staying in that God awful country when Paris longs for you? I and Jean Pierre wait with the finest in wine and food. You will be happy beyond your wildest dreams when you join me here as you know MaMa would have wanted you too!_

_You must come now and if it pleases you, bring your delicious friend James….._

He smiled as he continued her seven page letter, each page more dramatic than the one before as she promised him stage performances, women, art, music, the best of food and wine. He held the letter to his nose, not that he needed to as the paper was saturated with the sweet perfume she always doused her letters in. He laid the letter on his chest and rested his head on the back of the sofa: Beautiful Litta. Hard to believe she was his sister because they were so opposite. Where he was rational, analytical and scientific, she was emotional, headstrong, and impulsive. And yet they had always been close, drawn together by intellect and love of the arts.

How would she react when he told her he had a daughter? He chuckled out loud at the thought. Litta had three children, two boys and a girl, and all beautiful like their mother. Joy had cousins she had no idea existed but he'd tell her when things settled down. He let his mind wander. Maybe having Joy travel to Paris might be a good idea. A European education could increase her credibility if she did choose science as her field of study as many of the brightest women were coming out of Europe's universities: Florence Nightingale and Madam Curie. But although he loved his sister unequivocally, he wasn't sure that having Joy just move in was the best idea. First, there would be culture shock. But more importantly, Joy had just lost her mother, and now she'd be moving away from him, her father, and to top it off to a foreign country. Perhaps though, if she had a dependable older woman, that she felt comfortable with as a travel companion, it might work. And although he had no doubt Litta would be a loving caring aunt, she could be strong willed and determined. Yes, a confident experienced chaperone would be a perfect solution. "To you, my wonderful sister," he said out loud as he toasted with President Grant's brandy. All the worries would have to wait till tomorrow. Tonight, he was happy.

WWWWW

The sun streaming through the window awakened him, and he realized he'd fallen asleep on the couch somehow finding a blanket and pillow in the middle of the night. He wondered if yesterday was a dream but he was quickly reminded by Litta's heavily perfumed letter over his face, that indeed yesterday had been a very real day.

The rain had stopped and bits of sparkling water droplets decorated the landscape outside as the sun began its morning climb in the sky. He made himself a quick breakfast and pulled out his notes that he had made yesterday from his investigation of the bank and land office records. Jim would be returning today and he wanted to get his ideas together for their report on the counterfeiting scheme back to Washington so they'd have time to talk about his concerns for the future of their partnership. For as much as yesterday had been a relief, his worries for Jim's safety were still very much alive today.

It was mid-morning when the parlor door swung open and a smiling James West waltzed in. He was pleased to see Artie stationed at the table surrounded by papers, journals and writing instruments. For as much as he knew Artie was infatuated with Joy, he needed time away from her. And Jim needed time alone with Artie to explain why his partner needed to quit field work and maybe the Secret Service entirely for both his and Joy's safety.

"Hi Artie! You here by yourself?"

"That I am, Jim. I think Joy needed a day off from me… and you'll never guess what happened yesterday?" Jim could tell by Artie's broad smile that whatever it was, it was good. And he had a strong gut feeling that he might know exactly what it was. Artie stood up energetically, his arms outstretched, a wild grin plastered on his malleable face. "You are officially _Uncle Jim! _ Although if she ever calls you that in ear shot of ole Judge Wilson, I'm a dead man."

"She figured it out, didn't she," Jim said with a knowing grin. "I told you she would." He walked over and gave Artie a hearty embrace.

Artie went through the whole story at the cemetery minus the description of his own emotional breakdown while Jim stood, arms crossed, listening to the details. His mind, however, was already churning away on the next problem, which was come hell or high water he was going to make sure Artemus Gordon was off field duty. There was no way he was going to allow him to put his life in jeopardy especially now that Joy knew the truth.

Artie followed him into the galley, still excitedly relaying the story, as Jim went for coffee. He patiently waited as his friend continued, finally drawing to a close as he pensively added the idea of Joy traveling to Paris to stay with Litta."What do you think, Jim?" Artie was leaning against the galley doorway and Jim knew his moment had arrived.

He took a sip of coffee. "Sounds like a good idea, with the inclusion of a travel companion." He took his time as if pondering the possibilities of who could accompany Joy but in actuality he knew exactly who should travel with her, he just didn't want to seem too quick in coming up with name, as that would alert Artie to his real purpose in making the selection. He rubbed his hand across his face and leaned against the galley counter thoughtfully taking several minutes before he spoke. "Gee Artie, I think _you _should go with her. After all, she's your daughter and Litta is your sister. Who could be better than you and you _love_ Paris!"

In his mind, it was perfect! An unexpected solution, but a perfect one. It would get Artie out of the field and get both of them safely out of the country. It would be extremely unlikely any of their villainous types would go so far as to go after them in Paris.

"Me? Me go to Paris with Joy?" Artie stood straight now moving out of his casual stance, clearly taken aback by Jim's suggestion. "Well it's certainly a nice idea and I know Joy would love it, not to mention what plans my sister would have laid out for me, but Jim, I can't go to Paris, and leave you without a partner!" He voice bordered on incredulous.

"Sure you can. You were stationed in Washington for two months not so long ago and everything went fine." He turned his back pretending to pour more coffee so he didn't have to look his friend in the eye.

"Jim, yeah well maybe things were fine for two months because Richmond paired you with the best agents he had, but it was only temporary, you know that. Frank and Jeremy are back on their regular beats now. The Colonial couldn't pull them off again like that. You'd have to break in a new partner." Artie's tone was still astonished that Jim would suggest such a thing.

Jim had practiced this conversation in his head so many times, he almost felt like he was the stage actor now reciting a script. He leaned casually against the counter again. "Artie, I hate to tell you this, but you aren't THAT special that no one can take your place." He walked into the parlor car, knowing that the other man was right behind him but he still wasn't ready to take this conversation on yet face to face.

He could hear the hurt starting to break through in Artie's voice as the man spoke. "Jim, what do you mean? You know how many times I've saved your butt? How many times I've figured out just where you are, when **you** didn't even know where you were? How many times I've showed up in the nick of time to save your hide- one- more time?"

"I know Artie… you're good, real good. All I said is that I'm sure I could find another partner who could be equally as good." He faced the other man now trying hard to keep his voice and attitude casual but it was becoming rapidly obvious things weren't going the way he had hoped.

"Yeah, well forget it. It's not happening." Artie eyed the other man with disbelief and a dose of damaged pride. "I'm sure I can find a very suitable older woman who would be an excellent chaperone if Joy goes to Paris. And if you think I'm so _replaceable_, well maybe I'll just stick around to see who you come up with."He turned away and walked to the window, arms crossed firmly across his chest. The car was silent for several long moments until Artie spoke again, this time his voice clearly colored with hurt and anger. "And I'd like to see you pull off as a double for the President."

Jim realized his mistake. He should have known from the start that the best way to handle this was to take the issue straight on instead of trying to manipulate the other man. "Look, Artie, I'm sorry. Please sit down. We need to talk." He held out his arms, palms facing forward as a sign for peace. When the other man showed no signs of moving, he sat down on the couch and began, with Artie standing firmly planted in the middle of the car.

He leaned forward, focusing on the carpet while resting his elbows on his knees as he began. He wanted all his attention on picking his words carefully and he knew seeing the hurt and anger on his partner's face would be too distracting. He spoke slowly and evenly. "You have a daughter now who needs you, and who you are desperately in love with. It's unfair to you both if you continue to put yourself in harm's way, as you do every day as a field agent and my partner. And if Joy's identity should ever become widely known, I shudder to think about how she could be used as leverage against you and me."

He paused looking up for reaction, but the other man just continued to stand unmoving. Jim continued sincerity and devotion written on his handsome face. "Artemus, she's not safe if you remain in the field and if we continue as partners." He moved his gaze down again, drumming his fingers together and sighed. "You're the best agent I've ever worked with and you're my best friend. I will never work with anyone as good, as resourceful, as brilliant and intuitive as you, but I can't let you take the risk any more. Your life is too important." He looked up again and met the other man eye to eye.

Artie stood in the middle of the car, arms by his side, tensely flexing his fingers. He regarded him with an expression Jim wasn't sure of : contempt, mistrust, anger, relief? Jim relaxed, letting his back settle against the back of the couch and waited. He said what he needed to say.

Artie turned and ran his hand through his hair, as he walked slowly to the back of the car. He leaned and looked out one of the windows before turning back. "Well, at least I'm glad to hear that you don't think you could pull off as a double of Grant," he said his voice tinged with sarcasm.

Jim realized that Artie was still emotionally raw from the events of the last weeks that he would take affront so easily. He glanced over at the hole in the wall his partner had made when he'd first learned of Joy, now patched but still waiting for the final coat of varnish. "Sorry Artie. No, other than the cigars and brandy I couldn't agree with you more that I'd never pass for Grant." A deep frown was all he got for a reply.

Silence again filled the car as Artie continued to stand unmoving. Finally he began, "Look Jim, I've been thinking about this probably as much as you have, slightly different point of view though." He past his hand through his hair again as he slowly paced the floor. "Yes, I have a new responsibility and one that I take very seriously and then… I have you. You're the best agent in the country, Jim, and all of those things that make you the best are going to get you killed, especially if I'm not there. Yes, I have a responsibility to Joy, but I also have one to you and to this country. And if part of that responsibility is to keep you safe, not only as my friend, but as the most effective weapon Grant has to keep this fragile union together, I can't just turn my back on it for personal reasons."

As he started to slowly pace, an echo of his mother's voice from the dream went through his head: _It's all up to you now Artemus, my son. You must take care of your family, and all whom you come to love, but you are strong and loyal. And always be honorable to your family's name. _

He paused for a moment before speaking again; the anger was gone replaced by duty and obligation. "Maybe I can work part desk/ part field so I'm not in those danged awful positions you get me into all the time." Jim breathed a sigh of relief to hear what he hoped was a hint of humor in his friend's last remark. "And if Joy should go to Paris for a few years, maybe it's not so bad after all."

"Except of course she being in Paris doesn't keep you from getting killed over here."

"Well, Jim, if you'd be so kind as to stop killing me yourself, my odds would improve substantially." A suggestion of a grin passed Artie's face as he continued, "Do you realize how many times you've killed me? I think you're up to five so far."

"Yeah, well I hate to tell you partner, but you've tried to murder me a few times too, you know," James responded feeling better to hear the Artemus Gordon he knew so well beginning to resurface with his usual dry wit.

Artie walked over to the couch and sat down heavily opposite his friend. "Can we figure this out, Jim? Seems like we've handled so many other seemingly unwinnable situations and yet we've managed to stop how many villains, bad guys, and just downright nasty folks. I just wish I knew how." He let his head fall back on the couch.

"Artie? Have you talked to anyone else about this: Betty, Joy or even old bluster pants- the Judge himself?"

It was at that moment a knock came at the door. Jim rose to answer it while his partner remained lost in thought on the couch. It was a man from the livery delivering a note addressed to Mr Artemus Gordon. The wrangler took a long look around the luxurious furnishings while Jim dug in his pocket for a tip. "Nice place, Mister," and with a touch of his hat, he left.

"It's for you, delivered by the Judge Wilson's livery." Artie stood urgently as Jim walked over with the letter. Opening it, Artie said, "It's from Betty. She's inviting us for tea this afternoon. She advises me the Judge will be there and to be prompt."

He looked up at Jim, with alarm rapidly spreading across his face.


	11. Chapter 11

CHAPTER ELEVEN

They worked quickly as they pulled together the facts for the counterfeiting case, but both men were preoccupied with their own concerns and worry for the afternoon's meeting at Judge Wilson's house. They saddled up and hastily rode to town, Artie wanting to arrive before the appointed time to see Joy. He was tormented by the idea that the Judge had learned of Joy's discovery and was planning some legal maneuver to remove him from her life. He spurred his horse to a gallop as the sickening thought ate at his gut.

As the ground flew beneath them Jim's thought was for his friend. It was a very real possibility if Artie's fear was true he might have to restrain his friend from any rash moves that could jeopardize his career, whatever that turned out to be. Artemus Gordon was a logical and thoughtful man but he had no doubt that he had the potential for violence against the old Judge if he lost his temper. It was a funny thought, restraining Artie. He was heavier and bigger framed and although he had no doubt he could beat him in a fight, just holding him back from pummeling the old man could be a challenge. He glanced over and saw the potential was already there as Artie rode with a firm jaw, and hard eyes.

They arrived well before the designated time, and Artie leapt off his horse as he ran up the stairs of the large yellow house. Jim was right behind him and he grabbed the other man's fist mid air as he about to pound on the door. "Artie, easy. You don't even know if there's a problem." His friend's eyes flashed anger, but he quickly gained control of himself. "Yes, of course you're right. There's no problem." Jim knew that his friend had said his last comment only to calm himself. Artie straightened his jacket, ran his hand through his hair and knocked on the door.

Betty answered, wiping her hands on her apron as she swung the heavy oak door open. "Artemus! James! But you're here early." She stood looking at both of them, surprise on her face. Artie removed his hat and spoke hastily. "Is Joy here?"

"No, I sent her in town to pick up some sugar. Is everything alright?" she said looking both men over carefully. "Yes, yes, everything is fine…..," Artie began, but Jim interrupted him mid-ramble. "Betty, Artemus is very concerned that something might have happened that changed his legal status as Joy's guardian."

"Oh," said the woman looking at Artie with concern and shooting Jim a knowing look. "Won't you please come in?" She turned and escorted them into a small sitting room. Artie nervously turned his hat in his hands. "Please sit," she said indicating a chair.

"I'm sorry, Betty, but I don't think I can," Artie said beginning to pace. Jim thought Artie might jump out of his skin if he didn't get an answer soon.

"Please, Mr Gordon, sit down so we can talk." Her tone was more commanding this time and Jim didn't miss the fact she'd called him Mr Gordon. He helped things along by pushing Artie on the shoulder till he finally sat in a chair.

"Thank you, James," the older woman smiled graciously at him. "Now Artemus, seems like my grand-niece came home quite excited from your last trip together." Artie hung his head "I can explain that, Mrs Wilson," he said hurriedly.

"No need to explain, Artemus. I believe I suggested to you that perhaps it might not be the worst thing that could happen. And frankly I'm not surprised she figured it out. It's hard to keep secrets from that girl." Artie just shook his head.

Taking a deep breath, he said dejectedly, "So your husband is going to remove me from her guardianship, isn't he." And then his voice suddenly changed from sad to icy steel as he continued, saying, "I won't let him, Betty. He's not taking her away from me." His eyes sparked with gritty resolve.

"Oh heavens, No!" she replied startled by his conclusion. "Heavens, no. I'd never allow it. It was Amanda's final wish and I see no reason why you can't be an excellent father to Joy."

"My husband is not aware of his grand niece's discovery however, and it would best for peace in this house to keep things that way. Joy is certainly able to and I would suspect you gentleman are quite good at keeping secrets." She passed along a conspiratorial nod. "If that's what you were concerned about, my sincerest apologies, Artemus."

It looked like a great storm cloud had just dissipated as Artie said with relief, "Oh well… that's great!" Jim was feeling a whole better too knowing that there would be no need today to keep his partner from doing bodily injury to Judge Wilson. He asked "So, Betty, why did you want us here?"

"I thought it might be a good opportunity for you to talk about what _you_ _both_ might do next, in terms of your work. I sense the two of you have some grave concerns." She paused looking at both men intently before speaking again. "And since you gentlemen are notorious as a team and a favorite of Ulysses, I thought my husband and I could assist you in your decision making. You see, although you might see my husband as only a gruff old sort, he could be quite helpful to you," she said with a sly smile. "By the way, did I mention that Julia…, the First Lady, Julia Grant and I attended the same boarding school? I haven't seen her in ages but I hear she hosts the best parties. I'm sure you've been to some of them."

At that moment, the door opened and Joy walked in. She quickly glanced in the sitting room and after getting over her surprise that the two men had arrived early, she said, "Aunt Betty, is there anyone else here?"

"No my, Dear, only whom you see." Her face warmed the room with a loving smile.

At that, Joy ran to the seated Artemus and wrapped her arms around his neck surprising him but for only a moment as he returned the hug and gave her a big kiss on the cheek. "Uncle Jim!" and she turned to the other man with an equally big hug. A few days ago it was a moment Jim West had thought he might never see. "Hello, Princess," he exclaimed as he spun her around in a small circle before putting her down with a kiss.

"My Dear, why don't you go to the kitchen and check on the cookies, since our guests have arrived early, and I think you could punch down the dough and form the tea rolls."

"But Aunt Betty, why can't I stay and talk?" she whined.

"Because Joy, you have work to finish, now run along and you'll have plenty of time to visit later." The older woman's voice was gentle but unquestionably no- nonsense.

"Go ahead and do what your Aunt Betty says and I promise we'll have time later on," Artemus added with a smile. "Now go ahead, git!" He added a playful swipe at her behind with his hat as Joy beamed at the three of them and ran for the kitchen.

"Your daughter, Artemus, can be a willful young lady who doesn't take no for an answer sometimes. I hope she never losses it." Betty added with a pleasant smile. "We women need more like her. We have a long way to go. But… enough about that. I must say I'm glad you are here early. Come let's sit outside, beyond the hearing of little ears, and talk."

She rose from her chair and the two men followed her out to a small garden along the side of the house, which was framed by beech trees that added privacy while still allowing a breeze to blow through. A wooden porch swing hung from one of the large branches and she sat down at one end and gestured for Jim to come sit next to her. Several comfortable wooden chairs were positioned across from the swing and Artemus sat in one, placing his hat in another. The air was clean after yesterday's rain, and several rose bushes blossomed in their freshly watered glory at the edge of the garden.

Betty began as Jim pushed the swing gently with one foot. "It seems gentlemen, we have three problems to address: Joy's future and safety, your partnership as Secret Service agents, and your safety, Artemus, in your new role as Joy's father." Swinging as she was with Jim's gentle propulsion she suddenly looked and sounded like a school girl, her dainty feet dangling free as the swing gently glided back and forth. Jim couldn't help but smile at this woman's quiet but persistent ability to knock everything down to the simplest core issue.

"I've been doing a great deal of thinking about this, as well as calling in a few favors far and wide. If I might, I'd like to give my thoughts." Both men nodded in agreement.

"Good." She began. "First to discuss your daughter, Artemus: We know Amanda thought you to be the best choice as Joy's guardian. Obviously being her father increased the likelihood of you as her choice but she knew your character well and that you would treat the responsibility with grave sincerity. In other words, she saw you as the best choice to insure Joy's happiness in all regards. But from the very beginning, even before Joy came into this world, she did not want you to give up your career, something she felt even stronger about as your diligence in holding this country's fragile union together became public knowledge. Your position as a federal agent does pose some risk to Joy, however."

She stopped for a moment letting her rational sink in. "Thus I think some time on the East Coast to look at potential schools and serious consideration of a visit to Paris might be a perfect idea. In Paris Joy could blossom as a young woman, and increase her credibility by having exposure to the great women of Europe. Of course she would need a capable, French speaking chaperone, but I'm sure with your sister's help, accommodations and introductions this could all be expedited. Such a situation would of course ensure her safety, and introduce her to your sister, now her Aunt Litta, who would be her next of kin in your absence." She smiled confidently at the man beside her and then at Artie who began to speak, but she held a finger to her lips saying, "Please permit me to finish."

She continued. "Secondly, is the stabile partnership of you two gentleman, and thirdly, your safety as individuals and, of course, your personal safety as Joy's father." She gave a nod in Artemus's direction. "You do realize, I hope, the highest regard Ulysses holds you both, not only as his best federal agents but as trusted friends and strong allies in keeping this country on course."

She paused for a moment and smiled sweetly at Jim sitting beside her then reached over and patted his knee. "I must say, you are indeed two very handsome men." And then as if having just brushed away an irksome fly, she continued, leaving both men slightly shocked at the bluntness of her -self imposed interruption.

Jim figured this is just where he could interrupt and he'd use his trump card of charm to wiggle in. "I couldn't agree more, Betty, Artemus needs to move to supervisory desk work so he minimizes his exposure to dangerous situations."

At that Artie immediately leaned forward in his chair saying, "And how long do you think you're going to last without me rescuing you as usual?"

"Artemus, James, please," her soft voice intervened. "You are sounding like squabbling school boys on the playground." Her voice was smooth but admonishing at the same time. She spoke in turn to each of them. "James, you are worried that Artemus could be injured or killed in the line of duty if he stays on as your partner, and Artemus, you are concerned that James will get himself killed and probably pretty quickly if you aren't there. Am I correct?"

They both nodded looking at each other with matching looks of righteousness on their faces. "That's really very sweet," she said, "of both of you." Jim tried again to interrupt only to have the woman gently touch his arm and give him a charming shake of the head telling him it was not his turn.

"Now let me tell you what I think. From what I've read, Artemus is probably correct that you'll be dead within six months." She smiled at James pleasantly. "Now for you, Dear," she said looking in Artemus's direction, "you certainly would be safer sitting at a desk." At that Jim smiled triumphantly. "However, I predict that you would get bored quickly even with your own explosive laboratory set up right next door. I also predict that you would become so concerned with your friend's safety and the inability of any living soul to pull off the President's double as well as yourself, that you'd put yourself back in the field. By that time you'd be out of shape, probably overweight with your love of good food, and most likely would get yourself killed quite quickly."

She pulsed a quick amused look at him as she hopped off the swing. "Thus, I believe for the good of both of you, you remain together as partners. You are really very fond of each other, which you express as concern for each other's safety, but I think you should just admit that you are about as close as two friends can be. You both are devoted to what you do, you are committed to working together, and you are phenomenally good at it. What can I say, other than if it's worked this long, with God's blessing, it will continue to work!"

"It's what Amanda would have wanted, and Ulysses and Julia certainly doesn't want to see you break up." She straightened her skirt. "But now that I've said what I wanted, and by the way, the Judge agrees, I think you two need to have some straight talk. If I can help, let me know. And of course, you'll want to talk with Joy about her thoughts on the matter, as well as her own plans. I think you'll find she has a well considered opinion."

She took a deep refreshing breath and looked at both men pleasantly. "Come, let us have some lemonade and cool off both your hot tempers." She took Jim's arm, and waited for a puzzled Artemus to catch on and take her other arm to escort her up the stairs and into the house.

James shot Artie a look over the petite woman's head encompassing incredulity, bewilderment, marvel and revelation as they walked toward the house. Artie just shook his head looking stupefied. As they reached the front door, Betty turned to them both, "Why don't you two fine gentlemen relax for a minute and I'll be out shortly with some nice cool lemonade." She tucked a few soft silver grey hairs behind her ear, and walked into the house.

Jim leaned his hands on the porch railing chuckling to himself. Artie slowly walked over joining him. "So do you know what just happened?" he asked a bewildered look crossing his face.

"Yeah, I think I do." He looked down shaking his head, with a grin. "I think we just got admonished, and reprimanded by a ninety five pound woman."

"Oh, that's what I thought too." Artie added beginning to smirk. "I have to say she's nothing like any woman I've ever met before. I'm glad she's on our side of the law. Can you imagine what she'd be like if she ever decided to go out- law?"

"Yeah," Jim added, "a no frills, very short, grey-haired Emma Valentine comes to mind."

They both stood silently watching as life busily passed by the front of the house. Finally Jim said, "So what do you think?"

Artie stared out at the street as he spoke, "Well, I think she made some valid points…"

"Like you would get fat from eating all that fancy food?" Jim interrupted with a devilish grin, patting his friend's waistline.

"Very funny." Artie replied, then countered with, "Yeah, and how about you'll be dead in two shakes of a lamb's tail if I'm not watching out for your ass?"

Jim hesitated and with a twitch of his head, and arch of a thoughtful brow, he leaned over the railing resting his elbows on the white painted wood. "Yeah, that too," he said in a somber voice.

They were both quiet for a minute. "We are pretty good, aren't we." Jim said pensively.

"Yes, we are." Artie turned leaning against the railing. A few more silent minutes passed before he added playfully, "of course it is all my disguises."

"Partner, you can play dress up all you want. You're still ok with me," Jim added with a generous dose of mischief. Artie was ready to argue the value of covert strategy over overt action, but just started to laugh.

The porch door opened and Jim stepped over to help Joy with a tray of lemonade and cookies. He popped a cookie in his mouth and gave the girl a kiss on the head saying, "Thanks, Princess," and sauntered into the house. He called over his shoulder, "We can finish this later."

The young woman stopped momentarily looking after him with a mix of concern and curiosity, but continued over to Artie. "Here… Father, I brought this out for you," she said hesitantly. "Is everything ok?" She looked worried.

A thrill washed over him as he heard the word again spoken from her lips, … _father_. "Yes, everything is fine," he said looking at her, his heart overflowing with love.

"Aunt Betty said I should bring this out and maybe we could talk about … important things."

"Yes, we need to talk, but before we do I want you to know that I love you very, very much. And I want you to be happy and be everything you want to be." She smiled.

He took her hand and led her to the porch glider sheltered from the public eye by the thick canopy of the beech trees which also shaded the garden below and gave both spots generous privacy. They sat down together.

"It's been an eventful few weeks, hasn't it?" He said patting her hand. She nodded quietly. "And we both have some decisions to make." Again she nodded, listening. "Aunt Betty is thinking of traveling east with you to look at some schools. And _maybe_," he stressed the word, "you might even travel a bit farther to France. Now you know my sister is your Aunt Litta. You even have cousins there." He looked at her expecting to see excitement in her sparkling brown eyes. Instead he saw attentive contemplation as she took in each thought and carefully weighed its meaning. He continued, "You'd stay initially with Aunt Litta but eventually in your own place with a chaperone who would travel with you and stay with you while you were in Paris. What do you think?"

"I'd like that very much, Father." She spoke with the honest appraisal of a young woman, and not as a whimsical child. She paused for a moment and he thought she was going to ask a question about Paris or Litta, but instead her question was about him.

"And what about you and Uncle Jim? Aunt Betty and Uncle Amos know a lot about what you do and I've heard them talk that maybe you wouldn't work together anymore." She looked at him apprehensively.

Artie patted her hand again and brought it to his lips placing a kiss on it. "I think you listen a bit too much to conversations that don't concern you," he said chastising her for obvious eavesdropping.

"But it does concern me," she objected. "You're my father and I love you and Uncle Jim a lot and I don't want anything to happen to either of you." She twisted in her seat to face him. "I also don't want anything to happen to President Grant or any of the other important people leading this country. I know you're aware better than me, how many good men died fighting to keep this country whole and to make it free for all men and women. We can't have that undermined by selfish, greedy or power hungry men who will try to ruin the United States of America and its territories. You and Uncle Jim are important and not just to me, but to the country." He could see in her eyes true conviction and passion for her words. "I love you and I don't want anything to happen to you but you're important to other people too. And it's terribly important that President Grant be safe. I don't think the country and certainly I couldn't stand to have another president assassinated like poor Mr Lincoln."

He smiled at her, looking into her warm brown eyes. "You really are something." He tousled her hair and put his arm over her shoulder and she snuggled against him. He kissed the top of her head and realized he could sit just like this for the next hour or maybe the rest of his life except for the interruption of a clear voice calling from the house, "Mr Gordon, the Judge is almost here. Please come in for tea."

In spite of Betty's assurance, his heart jumped and a feeling of dread swept over him.


	12. Chapter 12

CHAPTER TWELEVE

The plain black carriage pulled up to the back of the house and Judge Amos Wilson could see by the two agents' horses that the men had already arrived. He had agreed with his wife that having a meeting was the best way to discuss future plans. Betty had originally wanted the men to come to dinner, but he couldn't agree to Gordon sitting down at his table after what he had done to his niece so many years ago. He admired and loved his wife of thirty two years, but this is where he drew the line regardless of her case that Artemus Gordon was a man of morality. No matter what the plea, he would never be an honorable man in his eyes. So he and Betty had compromised with a late afternoon tea.

He thanked his driver and told him he needed to be at the court house early tomorrow so to please arrive no later than six in the morning. He climbed the stairs reviewing in his mind what he and Betty had discussed over the last week.

Joy greeted him at the door with her bright smile that always melted his heart, although few knew it. "Mr Gordon and Mr West are here Uncle Amos. Did you have a good day?"

"Yes, I did, my dear," although in fact he did not, having sentenced a man to hang at the territorial prison for a murder he was not convinced he had committed. The jury had found the poor soul guilty and the sentence was mandatory. He'd send a telegram to the governor in the morning and see if he could get a stay of execution so he would have time to talk to the lawyers and come up with another option.

He was met next by Betty, the petite woman he'd fallen in love with and to this day loved only more as each day went by. "Hello, Dear." He greeted her with a peck on the cheek as she took his valise and hat. Betty could tell with one glance that it had not been a good day for her husband and she passed on her sympathy with a light squeeze of his arm.

"Mr Gordon and Mr West are here, Dear. We have already spoken as they arrived a bit early. I think Mr Gordon was anxious to talk," she said quietly. "Although I haven't spoken with either of them for the last few minutes, I do believe that they will come around to the only right way to proceed."

"And you, my Dear?" He said attentively. "Are you sure you want to go through with this?"

"Yes, Amos, I am, but I understand if you have second thoughts. We can talk as I'm sure there are other ways to handle the situation. We have to think of you too, you know."

"I will be fine. Gives me a chance to do some traveling too, you know. Ulysses and Julia have been asking me to come to Washington and break the terrible stalemate that's going on in the Justice Department." He paused looking down on this beautiful woman whose body had given into the years but whose spirit, intelligence and zest for life remained as strong as when he meet her.

"Come, Amos. Joy has tea and your favorite cookies waiting for you in the parlor." He followed her into the small room and was greeted by the two agents. James West was the closest and held out his hand confidently, self-assurance and vitality on his handsome face.

"Good afternoon, Sir," West said. He shook the offered hand firmly and moved on the next man, Gordon standing slightly behind West.

"Judge Wilson, good to see you again, Sir." Gordon extended his hand and the Judge had to consciously remind himself to be polite as he briefly took his hand and quickly moved on to his grand niece's offer to pour his tea.

He sat, indicating with a wave of his hand for the men to sit also. "Joy, tell your Aunt Betty we'll be a moment. Go give her a hand in the kitchen, and thank you, dear." He sipped his tea. "Would you like some?" he added indifferently as he looked at the other men.

"No thank you," James added quickly, "we'll wait for the ladies."

The Judge responded with a simple nod, and then he let the room go silent as he continued to drink.

Finally the Judge said, "I understand you talked with Mrs Wilson earlier today?"

"Yes, we did," Jim replied brightly. "We had a very nice discussion." Although Jim knew that of course it wasn't a discussion at all but a treatise and analysis delivered by Betty on why they should continue their partnership.

"My wife is a very smart lady, but I'm sure you already know that."

"Yes, Sir. We certainly do."

"And a lovely woman also." Artie chimed in. The Judge looked down his nose with a disapproving wince, and then added, "So, Mr Gordon, have you and Joy spoken about your plans as well as hers?"

"Yes, Sir, we did that also." Artie glanced at Jim tentatively before he began. "I think we all know what each other's concerns are and I think it's up to Jim and I to work out what will be best for us individually, for the Secret Service, and for Joy."

"I see," the old man replied clearing his throat in an officious manner. "And do you have any indications of what you might do on any of these fronts?" He put his cup and saucer down on the dark mahogany table next to him and folded his hands across his well padded stomach.

"Well, I understand from Mrs Wilson that you are also amenable to the idea of Joy traveling east to look at schools and perhaps even further to Europe, France, in particular, to evaluate educational and cultural opportunities there." He hastened to add, "… not by herself of course, but with a qualified female chaperone."

"Did my wife mention any ideas for this qualified chaperone?" he asked.

"No, Sir, she didn't mention any names if that's what you mean."

"Continue then, Mr Gordon." The Judge leaned back in his chair and looked like he was ready to begin a cross-examination of Artie, when Jim interrupted.

The Judge's still smoldering animosity towards his partner was obvious, and although the old man was important in Joy's life and thus in Artie's life too, enough was enough. He interjected, "I think our visit today with Mrs Wilson, Joy and, of course, yourself will be instrumental in helping us devise a situation that will work for Artie, myself, Joy and of course yourself and Mrs Wilson, and the Secret Service."

They'd gone through this before when they'd first met in the Judge's office days ago, and the Judge knew he was playing a losing game. He was also keenly aware of his truce with Gordon that he wouldn't harass him in front of Joy. He nodded in acquiescence. "Well, let me know what you gentlemen decide. I know Colonial Richmond is more than willing to be flexible on this. He has suggested even the possibility of adding a third member to your team, perhaps working in slowly to get the feel of how you operate and picking up more responsibility as time goes on. With sincerity, gentlemen, I will do what I can to help you work this out." He made a point of making eye contact with Artie as he spoke.

"Thank you, Sir." Artie replied. "We'll be in touch." At that, Betty and Joy entered the room with a plate of tea rolls and cookies. Joy poured for the group and conversation became more general with the Judge remaining guarded while the rest talked about schools, what Boston was like in the spring, and how Washington DC just kept growing.

They finished their tea and Artie was relieved to get out of the Wilson house. As they left, Betty stopped Jim and gently took his elbow pulling him over just a bit to give him a motherly peck on the cheek. She did the same as Artie said his goodbye, much to the Judge's dissatisfaction, but he said nothing. "Take care of yourselves and God bless," she called after them.

Joy followed them out back to the small barn on the pretense of seeing Black Jack again and gave the horse one of the carrots she'd brought out with her.

"He likes you," Jim said, "and that's a compliment because he doesn't like too many people." He tightened the saddle cinch as Artie did the same to his horse.

"He's just a big pussy cat, aren't you," she cooed as she nuzzled the animal's velvet nose. "You just have to know whose boss. You're a smart horse and you aren't going to let just anyone ride you, are you." She hugged the animal's muscular neck and gave it a farewell kiss.

Jim turned to her, smiling. There was a lot he could say. But seeing as he felt his own emotional control slipping, he decided a hug and a kiss on the check were the safest. "See ya soon, Princess." He looked back to Artie, "I'll meet you outside."

Joy walked over to Mesa who stood anxiously anticipating his treat. He'd seen his stable mate get an unexpected pleasure, and he sniffed the air awaiting his. As the horse happily munched away she stroked its neck with long gliding sweeps of her hand. She spoke quietly as she mindlessly continued stroking the animal, "I'm going to miss you, Father." She hesitated a moment and then looking into his eyes added, "… Dad. I feel like I just got to know you and now you're leaving. I'll miss you and Uncle Jim too." She turned back focusing her attention on the big chestnut horse who nuzzled its nose against her arm. "But I know you need to do what's right for you, Uncle Jim and this country. I love you, Dad and I'm very proud of you and Uncle Jim. Of course I want you to stay here with me, but what you do is important and I guess I'll just have to share you."

Artie studied her face. She didn't look like she was going to cry, but she was struggling with the reality of him, her father, leaving. He said scooping her up into his arms, "This won't be a long trip. We'll be back in a few weeks and we'll talk more."

She looked at him, "But will you be safe?"

"You bet," he said cheerfully feeling the weight of his decision to stay or leave come crashing down on his head. He hugged her tighter and she locked her arms around his waist. "I'm so proud of you," he mumbled into her hair.

"I'm the one who should be proud," she murmured.

He kissed the top of her head, and caught his own tear with the back of his hand before it tracked all the way down his cheek. "I'll see you in a week or two. We'll go back through here on our way to Washington. And I'll tell the President that he has to share me with you, at least for now." He wiggled his eyebrows at her with a playful grin, and she smiled back. He tipped her face up and kissed her on the cheek.

She smiled. "And I'll make sure I don't call you _Dad _in front of Uncle Amos."

"That too," he replied. He tousled her hair and mounted up. With a wave, the two men turned their horses and headed out of town.

As they moved out of ear shot, Jim said, "Well, at least you know the old man isn't going to try to take her away from you."

"Yeah, that's a relief." Artie replied. Jim looked over at his partner. "So Artie, I hate to keep putting this on you, but what do you think you'll do? You know how I feel: you should get out for your and Joy's sake. But I know that's selfish of me and probably ill-advised for the Secret Service. I just hate the thought of you getting hurt."

"Ditto for me, you know." replied Artie, "You know, I've _always_ hated the thought of me getting hurt, AND you getting killed, but I think Betty already summed that up for us didn't she. And other than the part about me getting fat, I agree with her summation." He paused collecting his thoughts for a minute. They rode at a slow comfortable trot with the muffled sound of hooves and creaking leather accompanying them.

"Jim, I hate to miss one more minute of Joy's life because I've already missed sixteen years of it. On the other hand, it was Amanda's wish, maybe even premonition that I continue with the Secret Service because she knew it was important. I wish I could talk to her about it but that's not going to happen, is it. So what's my choice? I can do desk or laboratory research, and worry till I'm sick over you and your damn tactics. OR, I can go to Paris, be with Joy, and worry till I'm sick from afar. OR, I can stay in the field."

"Maybe Betty is right: if it's worked this long, it will continue. I don't want to leave the field and I don't want to leave you. Let's just face it, we're good, we're REAL good. And the sad fact is we both seem to like this crazy, stupid, wickedly dangerous line of work we're in."

Artie was on a roll and Jim quietly listened knowing that this was his partner's opportunity to really think the whole thing out.

"Joy doesn't think I should leave. She says I'm too important to the country. And although she'll miss me… miss US, she'll be ok. And if she should go to Paris, I won't see her anyway, I just have to make sure I don't get murdered." He looked over at Jim who broke out in laughter.

"What?" Artie complained. "What's so funny?"

"Just what you said. Yeah, I guess we are in a crazy line of work that we have to complain about getting murdered like it's an annoyance, an aggravation. Kinda like trail riders complaining about the smell of a thousand head of beef or always stepping in cow- pies. An unpleasant nuisance but one that just kinda goes with the job." He hesitated for a moment thinking, "Now that you put it that way, maybe I'M the one who's nuts because I'm not thinking about leaving!" He chuckled.

"Well, now that you mention it, you are nuts! But you'll never leave because where else could you joyfully have fight after fight after fight and never, or at least seldom, get hauled off for breaking the peace." Artie shot back. "And by the way, you pull that _get fat_ _from eating too much fancy food _again_, _Pal, and you can better start getting used to your own cooking!"

Jim looked back to his partner, shaking his head with a grin as he thought about what an unexpected friendship they had. What good was an actor in the Secret Service, he remembered asking Colonial Richmond. Artie wasn't much of a fighter, not great with a gun, and had the strangest idea that disguises, subterfuge, and trickery was the way to meet the end goal. How his opinion had changed. He knew now that Artemus Gordon was indispensable, more reliable than the sun's rising every day, and a friend like he never thought he'd ever have.

"And what are you smirking about now?" Artie asked with cynicism creeping into his voice.

"Nothing," said Jim. "You know you worry too much."

"Oh, and what about you who doesn't worry enough?"

"I don't need to worry. That's what I have you for." Jim replied with an impish grin.

"Humph!" came Artie's reply. "You didn't seem to think I should be doing this stuff anymore. Too dangerous, you-who-never- worries says!"

"Well the way I see it, if I think it's no longer in _my __niece's_ best interest for you to be gallivanting around the country side dressed up as Sir Lancelot or some such character, all I have to do is shoot you in the leg or something, and that will put you behind a desk for awhile."

Artie looked at Jim gravely. "You'll get in trouble for that. Richmond won't be happy with you if you go shooting me."

"Artie, like I said once before, I'd never hurt a hair on your head, … unless of course it was for my niece."

Artie fired back, "I'll turn Betty lose on you."

Jim laughed, "Ok, now you're scaring me."

They both fell silent for awhile smiling with their own thoughts, as the sun began its preparation for dusk, signaling the birds to roost, and the shadows to lengthen.

Breaking the silence, Jim said somberly, "Artie, don't ever forget that whatever may happen in the future, Joy knows now that she has two parents who love her without reservation. That's a lot. Take it from someone who knows."

Artie looked over at Jim with a tight sad smile, and a nod of acquiescence. Thoughtfully he said, "I guess we'll just see how it goes. How Joy and Betty do for schools, what Litta says… you know you'll hear her scream all the way across the Atlantic and the eastern states." He straightened in the saddle with a look of resolve on his face as he scanned the horizon. "This job Richmond gave us should be an easy assignment. And when we're done, we'll pass through here again in a few weeks." Artie said it to himself more than anyone else as he gazed at the setting sun's fiery glow as it passed control of the day to the night.

Later that evening, after Jim had turned in, he took out his sketch pad and added another drawing. It was of he and Joy sitting on the porch swing, her head resting on his shoulder.

He smiled and flipped to a clean page. He made a grid with names across the top and questions down the side. He then proceeded to analyze the situation: should he stay or should he go. He carefully made notes in the grids corresponding to each name. When he was finished he tapped the pencil on the paper and sighed. His attempt to put the question in a more logical format hadn't clarified the problem the way he hoped it would. But then he sat up suddenly and added one more line to his list of questions: titled "Safe?" When he finished answering it, he lay the pad down on his lap and closed his eyes, digesting the obvious facts that a scientific approach brought to the subject.

"We'll have to see how it goes, see how it goes," he muttered to himself as he placed the notebook on his chest and fell into a deep sleep.


	13. Chapter 13

CHAPTER 13

True to Artie's prediction the case ended quickly and without incident.

And for that reason, Jim lost the bet and was stuck at the desk finishing the final report, when the telegraph machine jittered for his attention. It was a telegraph from Aunt Maude saying she would be traveling to Boston soon with Cousin Edith to hunt for antique English bone china tea cups so she could finally finish her collection. Could Artie please stop by for a visit before she left?

The telegram itself was sent from Baltimore. No one else other than a select few would ever know it began its journey in Indianapolis, traveled to Washington, then to Baltimore, turning around to head back west and finally to the Wanderer, all as a way to hide its true origin. Both men were highly aware of Joy's connection to Artie needing to stay a secret and they had worked out a set of code words and names: Artie's eccentric Aunt Maude was Betty's code name, china tea cups referred to schools they were considering, and Joy's code name was Cousin Edith. Joy hadn't been too keen on being dubbed "Cousin Edith", but Betty laid down the rules.

Jim shot back a quick response saying they would stop by before she left. They were approaching Indianapolis, stopping for water, and Artie was busy cleaning up his workshop. It was a busy day for telegrams as another message came through from Colonial Richmond saying he had been contacted by the French Consulate regarding the possible shipment of some American "art pieces" to France. He reported that a letter would come soon, but that the French would "adore" such priceless pieces, and he wanted to make Jim and Artemus aware of the possibility of such an exchange. Jim laughed out loud at the thought of Artie's sister Litta contacting Colonial Richmond by trans-Atlantic telegraph in such a rush to respond to Artie's letter.

The train pulled into the siding and shortly after a knock came to the door. Jim looked out the window, and was not surprised to see Amanda's bay mare, Lady. He smiled as he ran to the door. "Princess!" he yelled as he picked her up and swung her around. "Well, I know who else will be happy to see you," he said as he picked her up like a bride crossing the threshold and carried her to the front of the car yelling, "Artie you have a package!"

Jim burst through the door to find Artie with his back to him rummaging through his wardrobe closet. As he turned, Jim yelled, "Here catch! It's your cousin Edith," and with that he tossed the girl to Artie who just caught her in time.

"Jim!" he yelled sharply. "I could have dropped her!"

"No you wouldn't. You'd never drop your cousin Edith." Jim teased. "You might have ended up on the floor under her, but you never would have dropped her." To all this Joy giggled like the teenage girl she was, and then began to whine as to why she had to have the code name "Edith."

"Why can't I be "Cousin Sarah", like Sarah Bernhardt, or "Cousin Marie?" she pouted.

"Never you mind with your complaints," Artie scolded her. Pulling himself together, he added, "How did you know we were here?"

"Oh, I've been checking secretly every day for the last four days knowing that the train was on its way back. It's not that hard to find out where the Wanderer is you know."

"You are a sneaky one just like your Aunt Betty said," and with that he picked her up her feet dangling and kissed her. She wrapped her arms around his neck and whispered, "I love you, Dad." Artie put her down and while she straightened her skirt, she said, "Aunt Betty wants you to come over to the Courthouse. She has a surprise for you." Her face radiated anticipation.

"I hope it's a good one." Jim replied. He looked back to the last time he and Artie were at the Courthouse and their first meeting with Judge Wilson. A difficult day.

"Well, let me get the horses ready and we'll be along as soon as I finish this report." He glanced at Artie hopefully. "Of course you could finish this faster than me if you want to get things moving."

"It's good practice for you, Jim," the other man responded with an unreadable grin, "in case you need to do all this stuff without me."

"Oh good!" said Joy brightly. "I'll tell Aunt Betty that you'll be along soon. And … I never said 'Dad' or 'Father' to Uncle Amos either!" After a brief conversation about their recent trip, she pranced out the door and excitedly rode away.

Jim was still pondering Artie's last remark as his partner finished picking up the clothing he dropped when Jim had surprised him with Joy's appearance. They had never really talked about what Artie would do while on assignment. Jim figured it really did come down to what Artie thought was best in all realms, and what he could handle. But now that they were back in Indianapolis, where it all started, he knew it was time for decisions to be made. Colonial Richmond was waiting.

Jim leaned against the doorway. Although he had wanted his tone to be light and casual he knew it didn't come out that way. "So Artie I guess time is up. What's your decision? Are you hanging around or making new tracks?" It had never been far from his mind on this last mission, but Artie never brought it up although Jim could see it on his face from time to time, the weighing process of one path versus another. He hadn't said anything as he didn't want to influence Artie's thinking. He knew what he wanted his partner to do, but he would stand by any decision Artie made: one way or another.

"Can't stand the excitement?" Artie teased. "Are you in that much of a rush to get rid of me?" Artie shot him a tantalizing look and strode past him to parlor. He called behind him, "Let me get my boots and I'll be right there… and YOU can finish that report when we get back."

Artie was in good mood as they rode to the Courthouse and even though Jim was curious as the devil to know what his partner was thinking, he knew that at the very least Artie was comfortable with the decision he had made. And whatever it was, Jim was satisfied. Artemus Gordon was a diligent and thorough man. Whatever Artie decided, he would always know it had been carefully considered.

As they walked up the stairs to the Judge's second floor office, one of the guards watched the man dressed in the blue bolero jacket warily. Jim remembered his earlier trip when he had distracted the guard with one of Artie's famous smoke bombs. It sent the guard hurrying off, yelling "Fire!" while Jim proceeded to calmly let himself into the Judge's private chambers. Poor devil, he probably caught hell for that, thought Jim, as he waved to the man gregariously.

As they approached the office, a delicious smell of warm buttery pastry teased their noses. Artie exclaimed, "Oh my, that's got to be croissants! I haven't smelled anything that good outside of New Orleans!" They rounded the door, and saw Joy setting a fine table of bone china, and coffee at the Judge's private dining room.

"Hello Mr West, Mr Gordon," she said demurely as she called for her Aunt and Uncle, telling them their guests had arrived.

Betty came out from the kitchen with the same warm loving smile Jim had witnessed that day they visited the Wilson home for tea. She gave them both pecks on the cheeks while discretely sizing them both up the way a mother does grown children looking for any tell-tale sign of declining health. "I'm sorry gentlemen, but Amos will be another minute."

"Oh good then," Artemus said, "perhaps Joy and I might have a moment alone." Betty nodded her agreement and took Jim's arm steering him towards the window.

Joy and Artie walked to the far corner of the room. She looked at him expectantly. "Joy," he began slowly, "I want to make sure you haven't changed your mind about anything you said." He searched her face looking for any indication that there were words that remained unspoken, hiding from the truth. He held her shoulders so they faced each other, looking directly into her eyes for any suppressed guilt that may be masked. He couldn't remember any conversation he'd ever had in his life that was more important than this one.

She smiled at him, the love in her expression washing over him. She said softly, "Dad, I meant everything I said, and I haven't changed my mind. No one has tried to change my mind either, not Aunt Betty or Uncle Amos. And I talked to mom about it a lot… of course she didn't answer me directly, but I know what she thinks, and she'll always watch out for you and Uncle Jim." She paused for a minute, and then with a reassuring squeeze to his arms she said, "It will be ok."

A gruff, "humph," put an end to their talk, but not before Artie managed a quick kiss to his girl. They turned to see Judge Amos standing at the table. "Mr West, Mr Gordon," he motioned for them to sit. "I see you are both well, and I understand from Richmond that your last assignment went smoothly. Excellent job, as usual, from you both."

The Judge looked relaxed, Jim noticed, far different than when they'd meet him before. He didn't think he had let go of his dislike of Artie, which left Jim to think about what might have changed.

"So," the old man began, "you two have some significant men in our government waiting anxiously for your decision. I trust you have come to a decision?" He looked at them questioningly.

"Yes, Sir, we have." Jim spoke up quickly. In fact he didn't know what Artie was going to say, but he wanted it to go on record that whatever Artie said was a decision that they had made together. He would make sure Artie alone could never be blamed for anything that might happen in the future. "But, I think I'll let Mr Gordon speak." He settled back in his chair and passed on a look of total confidence to his partner and friend of the last four years.

"Well, Judge, Mrs Wilson, and of course Joy," Artie said, "because of all the wonderful support we know we have from you both, and the understanding of Colonial Richmond right up through the President, Jim and I have decided to continue working together." He looked at Jim and passed on an imperceptible nod. Jim wasn't completely comfortable with the decision but he smiled to himself, thinking: _don't forget Buddy, I can always shoot you in the leg if I don't like the way it's going!_

"Well, that good news," the Judge declared emphatically. Jim looked over to Betty who returned a reassuring nod. "Well, that's wonderful, isn't it Joy," Betty said, "and changing the subject, I understand Colonial Richmond has heard from your sister Litta, otherwise known as the French Consulate." She finished with a knowing grin, shaking her head as if taking about a naughty child.

She poured coffee for the men while Joy passed around the tray of enticing pastry.

"Please, Mr Gordon, Mr West, try my croissants if you will. In your absence I've brushed up on my French." Artie took a bite. His face lit up with delight as he savored the buttery delicacy. Jim watched as both the Wilsons and Joy traded conspiratorial looks. As Artie continued in culinary bliss, Betty said in perfect French, "J'espère que vous les aimez. Je les ai faits moi-même. "(I hope you like them. I made them myself.)

Without a moment of reflection as to what had just occurred, Artie answered, "Délicieux, le meilleur que j'ai jamais mange!" (Delicious, the best I have ever eaten!) Jim wondered what hit Artie first, his shocked expression, or the realization that he had just been answered in French. "Betty, you speak French!" Artie stammered.

"Yes, although not as good as you, Artemus. You see I studied in boarding school, but it's been a long time since I've used it. So I've been brushing up with a wonderful young French woman as my tutor."

All of a sudden, a fountain of clues came together. The surprise Joy talked about was not croissants but Betty. And Jim remembered back to tea at the Judge's house when the Judge had asked if Betty had suggested any potential chaperones. It had seemed like an odd question at the time, but Jim just filed it away with his copious notes of things that seem irrelevant at the time, but usually turn out to be important.

"You see, it's been a lifelong dream of mine to see Paris, and although it's far from a sure thing at this point, the Judge and I decided that if Joy should travel to France, it would be the chance I've waited for. And who better, than Joy's own blood to travel with her. Don't you agree, Mr Gordon?" Under the table, Jim caught sight of the Judge and Betty holding hands.

"Yes, of course!" stuttered a still very surprised Artie. "I can't imagine a better chaperone than yourself, Bett….," he caught himself, "Mrs Wilson." She smiled demurely in response. "And Judge Wilson, you have no problems with potential arrangement?" Artemus questioned hopefully.

"No, I do not, Mr Gordon. My wife has dreamed of such a trip for years, and IF it should happen, I will take advantage of her absence to spend some time in Washington. Ulysses has asked for my help on several occasions. In the meantime, I have my housekeeper, Mrs Anderson, who can take care of matters here." He straightened in his chair, but passed a quick nod to his wife.

"I propose a toast, then." Jim said. "To Boston, and all those excellent colleges, to Paris- should it happen, and to Joy, and Mr and Mrs Wilson for the wonderful people you are."

In unison, delicate china cups were raised in celebration, and with the gentlest of taps they were brought together as one in acknowledgement of Jim's blessing. Jim passed on to Artie a subtle acceptance of his decision. He wondered if Artie could read his mind that he was not acquiescing on his proclamation, that he'd make sure Artie was not in the field if he decided it wasn't in his _niece's_ best interest. A lopsided twitch of a grin told him Artie understood every unspoken word.

Two Weeks Later…

Another bullet slammed into the wood ceiling sending splinters and dust raining down on his head. Artemus Gordon gritted his teeth and mumbled through a mouthful of dirt, "If we get out of this alive, I'm going to kill you Jim!" He fired back, the heat and fire from the gun shots burning his face as he fired at close range. Two down, he counted, but there was at least one more out there and just where that thug was right now was a deeply troubling question. He reached back for his gun belt to reload, when he heard the sickening sound of a gun being cocked right behind him.

"Drop it mister and turn around real slow so I can see your ugly face when I kill ya." The words were delivered liked oiled venom. Artie was slowly turning, hoping he still had one more mini-bomb left in his pocket, when he heard a heavy thud and grunt. He spun around to see James West triumphantly delivering the last kick. His face was bloodied and one eye was half closed as he stood catching his breath, "Hi, Artie. I'm glad you could make it. Looked like I was in real trouble there for awhile."

"Well, thanks for noticing," Artie replied sarcastically. He pulled off the thin mustache and long sideburns he wore as part of his disguise that had gotten him within range of the shack. As he brushed what seemed like a half acre of dirt off his clothes he said, "You know, Jim, you can be seriously bad for my health."

"Heh, you're the one who wanted hang around." Jim replied.

"Well, who else is ever going to get you out of these… situations you get into!" Artie said exasperated . "You look like hell. You ok?"

"Yeah, I'm fine. Just a few scratches. How about you, partner? You alright?"

"Yah, I'm fine other than it will take me a week to get all the splinters out of my hair." He combed his fingers through the tangled mass, shaking out wood splinters.

"And seriously Artie, are you still ok with all this?" Jim motioned to the remains of the shack that had been his prison until Artie had showed up. His manner was laid back, but Artie knew the words were sincere.

Artie thought for one brief minute. Another case successfully finished and another diabolical power hungry maniac thwarted. "Yah, I'm ok, Jim." He walked over to the other man, picking up his bowler hat as he walked. He almost slapped Jim on the back but stopped at the last minute. A smear of blood and a torn shirt told him Jim West would be visiting the doctor later.

Jim wrapped his arm around his friend's shoulder. "You know I can always still shoot you," he said with a wicked grin. He stopped and removed his arm with mild disgust on his face. "Artie, you're bleeding on me. Looks like you need a doctor."

"Let's get the sheriff and go home." Artie sighed. "And just in case you still think you have the option of shooting me, I've already told Richmond, and you'll get in BIG trouble, my friend, Big trouble."

Jim smiled, and added, "But can I murder you? You said before I was up to killing you five times or maybe it was six, I don't remember. How about just one more? Come on, Artie, don't be a party- pooper!"

"James my boy… no wonder your family can't stand you. I can't stand you. And I'm surprised Cousin Edith even talks to you!" His eyes glinted with humor. "Come on, let's go. With any luck we'll have a letter waiting."

The End. _Thanks for reading!_

WWWWW

_Author note: Once again excuse the French translation. It's straight from Word. I never studied French and if you know that it could be better, please let me know and I'll fix it. _


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